twisted like vines
by in sync
Summary: Tangled up in wants and wishes, trying to find their corresponding puzzle pieces. / In which, I attempt to write every Next-Generation Pairing possible, and put them here.
1. intro

**twisted like vines**

**summary:**_ Tangled up in wants and wishes, trying to find their corresponding puzzle pieces. -—In which, I attempt to write every Next-Generation Pairing possible, and put them here._

* * *

And this is the start of my part of the Next-Generation Battle, as I'll so lovingly call it from now on

So here's the deal (parentheses are _author__—_ title of collection): Amy (_Amy is Rockin__—_ Love, hate and plenty of heartache), Ellie (_s i l v e r a u r o r a__—_ Relativity), Ela (_HollywoodNights__—_ N/A) Aimy (_Aiiimy__—_ Anarchy), Jenny (_xrawrDINOSAURx—_ Calamity), Ria (_Acacia Thorn—_ treat me like a stolen glance) and I are competing to write every next-generation pairing possible that isn't cousin/cousin or slash. These pairings include three OCs of the author's choosing.

The rules? Quite simple, actually: one story for each pairing and each story has to be between 600-3,000 words, with the exception of the allowed five freeverses. Also, my story will all be unconnected oneshots; along with the houses and personalities and looks varying in the oneshots. So if you try to connect them into one, you'll be so horribly confused.

My OCs, just so you know, will be** Talia Finnegan**—Daughter of Seamus and Lavender Finnegan—**Juliet Parkinson**—Daughter of Pansy Parkinson and Muggle—and** Layla Olivera**—a Muggle born witch.

Also, since you're taking the time to read mine please go read the others, 'kay? I promise you you won't regret it— they're all super duper amazing writers and I love them all to death.


	2. LilyScorpius

**a/n: **and now, the first one-shot in this series!

* * *

chapter one of twisted like vines:

and he's the king  
LilyScorpius  
wordcount: 879

a little heartache goes a long way  
guess this is what love is all about  
( _saving abel_ )

* * *

It begins quick and unnoticeable- a simple thing, really.

And then it exploded into a big, huge, aimless mess of heartbreak.

* * *

She's always sort of had an eye for him, even if she'd never admit it. Her eye wanders to just precisely where he's standing. (He's there again, coming into her life without her permission.)

She hates it.

(But its as if she is the peasant, and him the king, always obeying what the king wishes and watching, admiring, _idolizing_ him.)

And then, just like that, she's _purposely _looking for him in crowds, because...well, she can't really say why. She just _does. _(It's a habit, she supposes. A bad one, a very bad one at that._)_

They see each other in the common rooms, both being Slytherin's and all that, but they never actually talk, and she comes to the conclusion that this..._thing _(Yeah, yeah, she knows- she's tired of using that word, too._) _this _thing_, it must just be lust or infatuation or even a simple school-girl crush on him because it certainly cannot be_ love. (_Right? Right. It can't be love...it just...it just _can't_ be._)_

She repeats that sentence (_'It's just a crush, Lily, just a crush. Get over him.')_ in her thoughts everyday, every single hour that she's with him- and she gets to the point where she almost believes herself.

(Keyword in there? Almost. Because the one person who cannot completely and utterly believe everything that comes out of her skilled mouth-of-lying is Lily.)

He's just another boy dressed in silver and green that doesn't make her feel insane, that he doesn't have her mind go into a chaotic mess every time she sees him.

(Right? No? Well, he should be.)

And so, she pretends, giving herself away once again to the clever mask that she's fabricated for herself.

* * *

She always knew Rose had a thing for him.

Well, everyone did, but that was beside the point.

She _actually_ knew before everyone else _actually_ knew- as in that it was completely, one-hundred percent true. How, you may ask. Simple: she caught them.

She found Rose and Scorpius snogging in an empty corridor after she convinced her friends that she needed to study when all she really wanted to do was think about _him_. (Funny how things turn out, isn't it?) When she came across them, Rose was the first one to notice her. Her eyes bulged, still kissing Scorpius, as she saw her cousin standing a few feet away from them. But before she could do anything, Lily started to run down back from where she came from, trying to defeat the sobs that so desperately want to come out of her.

"Lily!" She heard Rose say from the hallway, obviously trying to catch up to her. "Lily wait! Please stop!"

She didn't stop. She just kept on running, running, running.

(And from then on, it was really all she seemed to be doing.)

* * *

She manages to avoid Scorpius and Rose for two weeks, which is quite a feat considering that she and Scorpius are in the same house and Rose had the whole Potter-Weasley clan searching for her. (Even though they have no idea what Rose wants her for, but their family and would do anything for each other.)

And she was sure that if she didn't have her father's map, she wouldn't have been able to avoid them at all.

But then, she falters one tiny step, and they catch her.

"Lily," Rose says as she grabs Lily and pulls her into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Lily puts up a fight, but even she can't hold off two seventh years. (Nah, she could- she's just a little tired of fighting everything around her.)

"Damn!" Lily says to them. "Merlin Rose, ever thought of becoming a security officer? 'Cause your sure stronger than I remember."

"Lily," she says again, clearly annoyed. Scorpius is leaning against the sink, his arms crossed against his chest and his ankles crossed at the bottom, looking like he frankly doesn't care about this. Rose crosses over to him and pulls him over to her.

"You know Scorpius-"

"Did you tell anyone?" He asks bluntly before Rose can say anything else. Rose shoots an annoyed look at him, but either he doesn't catch it or ignores it.

"No," she says, because as much as she wanted to, she just can't lie to those greygrey eyes. (And she knows, because she's tried before but failed miserably.) "Would you honestly think I'd tell anyone? Really, Rose, I thought you knew me better than that. You two go and be happy and all that shit, it's none of my business."

She tries to convince herself that she doesn't care (Once again.) and excuses herself before they can say anything else to her.

(She ignores the feeling of emptiness in her stomach as she walks away.)

* * *

Five years later, and she's standing as Rose's maid of honour at her and Scorpius' wedding.

She's put on that mask again that she's created ever so skillfully, all smiles and laughs and dancing.

But its on the inside that really counts, as everyone says.

And on the inside, she's feeling empty and broken and torn apart.

(And she wonders if it'll ever stop.)

* * *

**a/n: **Ah, it's crap. Oh well.

if you like it so much to favorite/alert, please leave a review.


	3. DominiqueScorpius

**a/n:** all the words next to the numbers are from _Secrets_ By: OneRepublic.

wordcount: 706

* * *

chasing a shining star  
DominiqueScorpius

1_. i need another story, something to get off my chest_

You're a magician- no, not the kind with magic, though you are that kind, too.

The kind with words.

Poetry. Lyrics. Even novels. When it comes to words, you are the tamer and they are the lion, and they are fighting to stay free. And each time, you win.

You don't like to think much of yourself but you can't help but think you've quite possibly written the next best-seller, the next book that everyone will be reading and talking about.

But for once, you overestimate yourself, darling.

And you find this out when your hand freezes on the blank paper, no words to pour out onto it, no hidden truths that only you know how to find, where they precisely are in your story.

Nothing.

The paper stays clean and empty, silently mocking you as you try, and try, and _try_ to think of a new plot, of new characters, of new situations.

And still, there's nothing. Nothing but a bare page.

But then, you met him.

(And he becomes your own personal tragedy, my girl.)

2. _come by it honestly i swear, thought you saw me wink_

You meet him over Winter Holiday, when Al brings him over. Faintly, you remember him in first year; nervous, and bracing himself for all the hell that would come since he _is_, after all, a Malfoy. You two were never really friends, as he mostly hung out with Al and Rose, and you with other Gryffindor's.

"I'm Scorpius," he says as he holds out his hand.

Of course you know who he is, what Weasley girl doesn't? But it isn't the snow-white hair or the hauntingly dark grey eyes that set him apart from the other guys- it's the fact that he's kidnapped each of the girls hearts at some point, at some time, that each of the girls has warned the younger girls to _stay away from him_- but who listens to their elders, anyway?

"Dominique," you say as the two of you shake hands. He looks you over, and you can't help but think that he's assessing you, as if wondering your worthy, but then smirks.

"Nice to meet you, 'Nic," he says.

And you don't bother correcting him, because something about the way he looks- so arrogantly, so blasé -you just think that he would still call you that, anyway. It takes awhile, but you get used to him, you get used to the way he acts so confident around others and how reserved he his. (With everyone except Rose and Al, and [surprisingly] you that is.)

In fact, you start to open yourself, _your real self_, to him, just a little bit.

3. _my god, amazing that we got this far_

Soon, to everyone's amazement, the two of you become friends- the best of friends. You're always there when he comes from a rough Quidditch practice, and he's always there when you're complaining about your family, or guys.

(He doesn't realize that the one you're complaining about is him.)

It's as if your living in a cheesy Muggle movie, where the best friends fall in love with each other and have a perfect, fairytale happy-ending.

But this isn't a fairytale, and this isn't a stupid Muggle movie.

This is real life.

And in real life, he isn't going to sweep you off your feet anytime soon or proclaim his love for you in the rain.

One good thing comes from this, though.

You're writing again.

(But the stories are starting to get a little repetitive, and you're tired of all of them not having happy endings.)

4. _it's like we're chasing all those stars_

He's with Rose.

_He's finally with Rose._

Everyone has seen it coming for a long, long time. You just refused to believe that it would actually happen.

(You should've known- nothing good comes from falling for a Malfoy-boy.)

It turns out that you were just blind, blind by his brightness that shimmers like the stars and you just kept _chasing._

But still, you keep chasing for a dream that would never come to reality.

(You were living in your fantasy world too much for him, anyway, darling.)

* * *

**a/n: **if you like it enough to favorite/alert, please leave a review.

Any requests?


	4. LilyLysander

**a/n:** as requested by AccioHope with _Over My Head_ by: The Fray as a prompt.

**wordcount:** 926

* * *

the string is cut  
LilyLysander

never thought that you wanted to bring it down  
i won't let it go down till we torch it ourselves  
(_ the fray _)

* * *

She is firefire_fire._ (Slytherin, _fire._)

He is waterwater_water_. (Ravenclaw,_ water_.)

They are opposites.

And he thinks they work, that they're perfect. That they have the whole opposites-attract thing going on.

But they don't, and he'll find that out soon enough.

* * *

Smile, smile pretty boy because that's all that keeps her under his spell. When they were young, they were the best of friends. Lost of people assumed that they would end up together, even though they were completely different.

She loves Muggle rock music, while he loves Bach and Beethoven and Brahms.

She loves playing outside in the snow, in the rain, in everything. He likes the indoors more.

But they balanced each other out, because the fire (Lily) was always going to be put out by the water (Lysander) eventually.

And slowly, ever so slowly, he is putting out her flame whether he means to or not and finally, she will be put out forevermore.

And she knows this, she knows that he's bad for her, that he'll be her downfall, but she doesn't know how to beat the ever-lasting water.

* * *

What they didn't know was that, though there were people who thought they would be the perfect, immortal couple, more people thought that they would destroy each other, with their constant arguments over such little things, and their endless differences.

They were all just waiting patiently for Lysander to push one more button, and then Lily would explode and then, they were done.

(As if it was that simple.)

He thought they were flawless.

And she knew that they were anything but.

It's typical oblivious Lysander, and too-careful-with-people Lily.

And their supposed to balance each other out, right? _Right?_

Wrong._

* * *

_She breaks up with him.

A week before their year anniversary, she breaks up with him.

Or tries to, anyway.

But he refuses to believe that there was something wrong with the two of them.

He convinces her to give them another chance, said that he loves her and that she loves him so why couldn't, why _shouldn't_, they be together?

(And he thinks if you love something, you have to let it go, that's the famous saying, isn't it? But he can't let her go, because he knows that she'll never come back and he won't have that. No, he won't ever have his little Lily-flower leave him.)

* * *

She excites him.

He bores her.

Its a trade off, one that they have made so many times that she doesn't even know what excited her about Lysander in the first place, and she regrets taking their friendship to the next level, because she doesn't want to loose him, not completely, anyway.

(But there was a time when they were happy, when they did seem as if they were immortal. Maybe she can bring that back...?)

(No.)

(She can't.)

('Cause it's impossible to bring back what they once had, because they never really had it in the first place.)

* * *

She gets fed up with him so much that she just cracks, and because she can't face him (She wasn't made a Gryffindor with courage and all that crap, anyway.) she runs away.

She runs away to dragons and fire and scorches and burns, but it's the closest thing she's felt to happiness in a long time.

Because fire and fire, they work, see? Water and fire? Nah, they never would have lasted long enough.

And she forgets of the life that she left behind, of the boy that was searching for her.

(Because he's searching for her.)

(He's searching and searching and searching and then he's gonna be _find__ing_.)

* * *

And that's exactly what he does, what her whole family does.

But he's the one that finds her.

And, yeah, he's angry and she's angry and what good can come from that?

* * *

It's a summer morning when he finds her. It's been two years since she's run away, but nobody has ever stopped searching. He has apparated to every place that he can think of, every person that ever knew Lily in even the slightest way.

Except for Uncle Charlie.

He isn't quite sure why he never thought of him before- it would make sense, wouldn't it? Fire and fire, finally brought together. Maybe it's because Charlie comes to the family gatherings, to the search parties and looks just as worried as everyone else. (Nobody knew what a good liar he was.)

But at least he's thought of the reserve eventually, and at least he finds her.

However, she doesn't want to go back. She doesn't plan on going back, she says to him.

And then, that's when the bomb explodes.

Everything she's held in, every little emotion or every little thing that's ever gone wrong, comes pouring out of her and she can't stop it.

And that's when it ends- when _they_ finally end.

He's crushed.

But she's relieved.

* * *

He convinces her to go back.

It takes awhile, but he convinces her to go back.

There's a mixture of happiness and anger and everything in between as her family ask where she's been and when they tell them that she was at the dragon reserve with Uncle Charlie, everyone turns to look at him. He just shrugs.

(And she'd never admit it, but she's grateful for Lysander finding her, because she never wanted to leave her family in the first place.)

But she is free, and he is free, and the string that held them together is finally cut, broken in half.

And they are ready to start a new way to live their lives.

* * *

**a/n: **if you liked it enough to favorite/alert, please don't do so without reviewing.

Feel free to ask for requests, as long as you give me a prompt with it, 'kay?


	5. TeddyVictoire

**a/n: **not so fond of this one, but i never really like it when i write pairings that i don't like. ...yeah, that makes sense. **  
**

**wordcount:** 888

* * *

that boy with the rainbow-hair  
TeddyVictoire

* * *

It's right.

It's (supposed to be) something from a fairytale book. _  
_

So why shouldn't it work out?

Your sitting in your room, your head in your arms with your ( ((im))perfect, ((im))perfect) blonde curls hanging around you and your (usually crystal-clear) blue eyes blurred by tears. Your curled in a ball in the furthest corner from the door, trying to ignore the feeling that's trying to capture you, that's trying to swallow you whole and not let you feel anything else again.

He broke up with you.

_He broke up with you._

(And, yeah, you don't believe it right now, but honey, it_ did_ happen and the sooner you accept it, the sooner you can move on.)_  
_

That shouldn't happen. It just, it just shouldn't _happen_.

The two of you are perfect together.

You're spotless, undamaged, whole.

He's spotless, undamaged, whole.

(But, see darling, you aren't as spotless as you think you are. In fact, you are quite the opposite.)

But now? Now the entire situation is different. So, _so_ different.

Right now, your imperfections that you've covered up so carefully are showing right through.

Right now, your damaged, your destroyed, and your walls are burnt down into rubble.

Right now, you are broken in so many pieces, so many ways that you can't even count them.

_Is this how she felt?_ You think faintly as your mind wanders from the present. You know that little Lily Luna Potter has always had control over Teddy, that she was always, and will always be his, but you just refused to believe it.

(Just like so many other things.)

You barely hear your parents arguing downstairs about why your up here, alone, crying about everything that's ever gone wrong in your life. They don't really know, don't really know what happened to you. You suppose they should know, but they'll find out soon enough and you don't really care about that right now.

(You are hopeless. The star that used to shine in you has exploded into a black hole.)

You hear your door creak open, but don't look up from your position. All you want to be is to be alone, encased in your own thoughts of pity and regret.

(But not really. You have never wanted to be alone for a second in your whole life- all you really want is someone who _understands_.)

"Victoire?" Its Dom. No surprise, really, but its starting to get annoying, peoplpe checking up on you every ten minutes. She's already been in here four times, Louis two, and your parents too many to count, all trying to get you to talk. "Vic, what's wrong?"

"Oh, please, Dominique," you groan as you turn away. "I'm not in the mood."

Now, usually when you say that you're 'not in the mood' everyone stays away from you as if your the plague, but instead, Dominique goes and sits down next to you.

"That isn't going to work this time," she says. After a moment of silence, Dom says, "Oh, come on, Victoire. What's the matter? Can't you just tell me? I'm you're sister for crying out loud, we tell each other everything. Why not this?"

You can't deny that that isn't true- being only one year apart, you and Dominique have always had each others back from day one. But this just wasn't the same, admitting defeat and heartbreak isn't you.

(But pretending everything is fine, that everything is perfect, is exactly what you do and that shouldn't change just because one tiny little thing has gone wrong.)

And so, you clear your face of your tears, stand up with your chin high and walk through the door, leaving a confused Dominique behind.

You close the door to the bathroom and see the mess that you have become. Your usually perfect curls are hanging limp around your body, your eyes are red and blotchy from the tears that you've shed and your still in your pajamas. Sighing, you mutter a spell that calms your hair and cleans your face of all the trace of tears.

You go back into your room to find that Dominique has left, and open your wardrobe to pick out your outfit. You choose a sparkly, light blue halter top and skin tight jeans with a pair of high-heels that make you two inches higher than you would've normally been. Smiling with how you look, you walk downstairs to the living to find your parents flooing the rest of the family, trying to see if anybody knows what has happened to you.

"Mum, Dad," you say.

The two stop talking immediately, surprised that you've come downstairs.

"I'm going out for the night," you say as you apparate away to a bar in Hogsmeade before they can say anything else.

Almost at once, a group of men in their mid-twenties come up to you.

"Care to dance?" A man with dark brown eyes and a loop-sided smile says to you.

You oblige, and this is just the beginning of your night, the beginning of a new you.

You become someone who doesn't really believe in love, but says the 'I love yous' anyway.

You become someone who is withering silently in your own pain, pretending that your happy in your life.

(Because you'll never get over the boy with the rainbow-hair.)

* * *

**a/n: **if you like it enough to favorite/alert, please don't forget to leave a review.

Feel free to ask for requests, just be sure to leave a prompt with it.


	6. LysanderRoxanne

**a/n:** i've seen a lot of these going around lately, and wanted to try one myself! oh, and the only letter i couldn't really find was 'x' but it means 'the art of engraving on wood'.

wordcount: 1998

* * *

a bucket full of surprises  
LysanderRoxanne

all this time is waiting for you  
don't stop, don't change, stay beautiful.  
(_ the last goodnight_ )

* * *

**A is for alive**

And, yeah, it's cliched but he can't help but think that whenever she's around, he feels _alive _and _real_ and he just can't stop smiling.

And, yeah, so what if she feels the same way?

(He doesn't know, and she'll make sure to keep it that way because she's too careful and has heard the terrible stories of heartbreak and tears and she doesn't want to endure that one bit.)

**B is for blur**

Amongst the blur of the Weasley red-heads there are two brunettes, a mother and a daughter, named Angelina and Roxanne- this is one of the many ways that she stands out in the huge family.

Another? She can talk for about eight minutes straight without stopping to catch her breath, but only if she has to.

And one more? She is a painter, with her hands blanketed in the colors of the rainbow.

(But there is so much more to her than just those few, amazing things.)

**C is for change**

She tried to change herself, once, for him.

It didn't work, she felt too out of place in those high_high_ heels and low-cut tank tops and tight_tight _jeans.

She prefers her dirty apron and ripped jeans, anyway.

(And, really, so does he.)

**D is for details**

She has always had a keen eye for detail. She is an artist, after all, and a perfectionist, so it would make sense, right?

But does it make sense that she pays such attention to _his_ details?

(Like the way his eyebrows come together when he's concentrating on something or the way he hesitates after he says yes to something, as if he's not sure of it.)

(That's normal, right?)

(Right?)

(Yes. It is.)

(Or, at least she tries to convince herself that it's normal, anyway.)

**E is for exotic**

She is exotic, unique, one of a kind.

She isn't a photocopy of her cousins, or her father or other family members. She is one-hundred percent herself.

And it puzzles most of her family, how she became an artist.

Because she is just a colorful, tropical bird in the snow-white tundra, misplaced and flown off course.

(And he wouldn't have her any other way.)

**F is for feeling**

She was really never a single person.

There was always two of them- her and Fred, Fred and her. They were a two-some, always together and always knowing how each other felt.

So, of course, he knows how she feels about Lysander, even though she doesn't know he does.

(But if there's anyone she trusts with her feelings, its her brother.)

**G is for graceful**

Roxanne was anything but graceful. She spills her bottles of paints almost everyday, and when she tried out for Quidditch, she fell off her broom in seconds.

But Lysander, on the other hand, was the opposite.

(An angel. That's what she thought of him. That he was an angel.)

**H is for heartbroken**

Roxanne was, to put it quite simply, heartbroken.

(But so was he. Because they were both oblivious to each others feelings.)

They were friends- nothing more, nothing less.

Best friends, sure, but that's not the relationship level that either wants to be at.

(And she was afraid that _friends_ was all that would ever be between them.)

**I is for imagine**

He was always a dreamer.

She was always a dreamer.

A dreamer-girl, flying amongst the stars, and a dreamer-boy, climbing the highest tress.

They both imagined their futures with each other, with the people around them.

(Secretly, they both hoped their fantasies of growing old together would come true.)

**J is for jealous**

Yeah, she is jealous when Lysander is dating Dominique.

But she pushes her jealousy down, down, down, because she isn't the type to let her emotions get the better of her.

A week later, Dominique breaks up with him.

(And she'll never ask her, but she thinks that Dom broke up with him because she knows how she really feels.)

**K is for keepsake**

He probably doesn't remember, but for her eleventh birthday, her first birthday at Hogwarts, he gave him a charm bracelet.

"Mum got it," he said sheepishly as he tousles his hair.

She just smiles and says thank you, while he puts it on her. There were eleven charms at the beginning, but each year she adds one more onto it.

(And she always has had it with her, even when she grew out of it. It was a memory, an important keepsake and her good luck charm.)

**L is for lie**

He could always tell when she was lying.

She averted her gaze, tucked her hair back behind her ear. Small things, really, but he noticed them nonetheless.

So, maybe he notices things about her while she doesn't about him (Lie.) but, oh well.

(He still does, no matter how hard he tries to stop himself.)

**M is for magic**.

For Roxanne, she thought there were two different kinds of magic. Practical magic, and real magic.

Real magic: kisses, and meaningful 'I love you's. Lingering touches, stolen moments and glances that only you know the meaning of.

Practical magic: pens floating in the air, a rat transforming into a cup, a broom flying.

(And, secretly, she always wanted to find real magic at Hogwarts instead of boring, old, practical magic.)

**N is for naive**

He remembers when he first met her; small and tiny, naive to the world around her, but still fierce and independent.

He remembers her stating her views on Elves freedom and politics and everything in between.

(He also remembers how she first looked when she saw him; as if she was assessing him, wondering if he was noble enough to join her in friendship. Luckily, she chose that he was.)

She remembers when she first met him; tall for his age, his hair covering his eyes greengreen eyes.

She remembers him climbing up trees with his brother and her cousins, and him sitting outside on a starry night, looking at the constellations in the sky.

(And there are more memories, more and more and more memories, of each other that the other doesn't even know they have.)

(Oh, when will they see?)

**O is for odd**

They were both odd; irregular, bizarre.

The boy who played guitar and thought of stages and lights and a sold-out concert.

The girl who dreamed and dreamed and dreamed of a life where all she had to do was paint and be happy.

Odd. Yes, that was what they were. Odd.

(To everyone else, that is. But to each other, they were exactly perfect.)

**P is for painting**

She shows him her paintings one summer day, and he marvels at the complicity and the colors and, well, just everything about them.

"They're wonderful," he tells her.

All she does is blush, but he's too captivated in her paintings to notice.

(And thank Merlin he is, she thinks, because she's too careful with her heart and everyone knows that.)

**Q is for quiet**

Believe it or not, she is the quietest out of the Weasley kids.

The rest all talk like crazy, yelling as loud as they can to be heard.

But Roxanne doesn't yell, she doesn't even nessacarily want to be heard by everyone.

She just wants to be heard by someone who _wants_ to listen.

(He wants to. She just has to open her eyes and see.)

**R is for rebel**

She isn't like Lily Luna, the rebel of the family that wears leather jackets and skin-tight jeans.

She isn't like Victoire, who's all _glitterglitter sparkle_.

She isn't like Lucy, the performer who just wants to be on stage for the rest of her life.

Nor is she like Rose, who loves old bookstores and is more like her Mum than she'd ever admit.

Roxanne is Roxanne- the painter, the dreamer, the romantic. She isn't like anyone else in her family.

(And all she needs to be is herself.)

**S is for sun**

He loves the night, with its constellations and shining stars and the moon.

She loves the day, the clouds flying above her and a blue sky with endless possibilities.

(But unlike the day and night, they are not opposites. If anything, they are the same.)

**T is for tear**

She's tried painting him before, she _has_, but it just has never worked out.

All the paintings have been off- whether its the color of his eyes, or the expression on his face. They all just end up torn in pieces, thrown in the trash.

Because nothing can ever compare to the real thing.

(And it would have just been a picture, anyway, and anything that's a picture is just that- a picture.)

**U is for unclean**

"Roxanne, you really need to clean this place," he says as he enters her studio for the first time.

Papers are everywhere, the floor is covered with paint and there are hundreds, if not thousands, of unfinished sketches taped to the wall. The shelves are anything but organized, filled with paints and bottles and crayons, the table barely visible through a coat of a mixture of art supplies.

"Why? I know where everything is- nobody else needs to know where it is," Roxanne says simply.

All he does is sigh as he tries to get through the slush pile of so many things.

(And its such a _Roxanne _thing to say that he doesn't know what else to say.)

**V is for vanilla**

"What type of ice cream do ya want, Rox?" He asks. It's summer, and their at a Muggle ice cream shop in a nearby town.

"Vanilla," she says.

"Really? I would've thought chocolate or something-"

"Vanilla, please," she says to the employee, cutting him off before he can say anything else.

(She's just a bucket full of surprises, isn't she boy?)

**W is for wedding**

At his brothers wedding, Lysander finds Roxanne in the crowd.

"Want to dance?"

"I'd love to."

And, yeah, they get drunk on firewhisky and say some things they may or may not mean, but they remember everything that they did after the night is over.

("Roxanne," he slurs, holding his bottle of firewhisky up high.

"Mm?"

"I love you, you know that right?" He takes another sip, and leans his head on her shoulder as he finds sleep.

"Yeah," she says once he's asleep. "I know.")

(And she remembers that in particular.)

**X is for xylography**

He's thirteen, going through his first crush on his best friend.

She's inside, drawing in a sketchbook, and he's out there sitting with a knife.

He goes to the nearest tree and starts carving something onto it. In thirty minutes, his masterpiece is complete.

(And if anyone looks there ten years from now, the initials LS + RW inside a heart will still be engraved on it.)

**Y is for young**

At four, they are anything but compatible. They're arguing over the simplest things, the stupidest things- but for someone as young as themselves, it's their life to argue with the opposite sex.

They're eleven again, first year at Hogwarts, and really first time seeing the other as anything but a nuisance. (He's a Ravenclaw- _duh_ -and she's a Gryffindor-_ duh_ -but somehow they make their friendship work.)

And suddenly, their seventeen and at their last, their final year at Hogwarts. Goodbye's are silly because they know they'll see each other again soon, they just _know_ it, so they don't say goodbye and just leave to their families and wait until they see each other again.

(They'll always be there for each other, _always, always, always._)

**Z is for zap**

And suddenly, everything is finished.

In a blink of an eye- _zap! _-they each got their own happy ending with each other.

In a blink of an eye- _zap! _-they are happy.

In a blink of an eye- _zap!_ -their fantasies came true.

(But everything isn't finished. No, the beginning is just starting to be reborn.)

* * *

**a/n: **if you liked it enough to favorite, please leave a review.

Feel free to ask for requests if you have any.


	7. LysanderRose

**a/n: **because, on the poll of my page, this got the highest votes. apologies, because this sucks- i blame writer's block.

**wordcount**: 939

* * *

chasing the ice queen  
LysanderRose

you could rearrange the stars  
and make them all your own  
( _thriving ivory_ )

* * *

She ran, he followed.

She ran, he followed.

And the pattern sustains.

* * *

He knows what she's capable of, that she's worth so much more than just sitting in an office at the Ministry (even though she's convinced herself that she wants to work there).

See, he knows what she really wants to be.

What her future _could _be like.

She _could_ live on the ice, and skate for audiences of hundreds, _thousands_, of people, cheering her name.

She _could_ be the famous ice princess, no, not just a princess, but a _queen_.

Rose Weasley, the ice queen_. _

Has a nice ring to it, yeah?

(Ha, as if anyone could actually convince her of that. Trust me, he's tried and if there's anyone who can she can say yes to something so "Outrageously ridiculous" as that, its him- Lysander.)

* * *

It's Winter Holiday of their fourth year, and the two are at a not-so-far-away pond near his house. They both have their skates on, their hands frozen and their faces red from the cold, but they are having too much fun to notice. And, to say the least, she is beautiful. (And, well, an ice queen.)

He laughs as she spirals into his arms, her smile wide and her eyes sparkling with happiness.

(And he thinks that this might just be when his heart was stolen from her.)

(But, deary, it's been stolen from her for a long time.)

(He's just never noticed it because he's never had it in the first place.)

"You're a fabulous ice skater, Rose," he says to her. If it's possible, her smile gets even bigger and her eyes sparkle even more.

"Thank you," she says.

"Y'know, I think you could make your life as an ice skater."

She laughs as if it's the funniest thing in the world, and then glides back onto the ice, "A Muggle ice skater? Really, 'Sander? That's an outrageously ridiculous suggestion."

He chases her on the ice, and stops her in her tracks. "Well, what do you want to do?"

She sighs. "I dunno, 'Sander. But can one really make a living skating, of all things?"

"Yeah, people can. Muggles that are so good at it can make thousands of money a year just by doing what they love," he says.

"Name three people who do," she challenges. But before he can answer, she's off on the ice and he's chasing her, _again_.

(It's just the beginning of their cycle, baby.)

And, _again_, he stops her in her path.

"I dunno," he says. "But I'll find out."

She just smiles like he's absurd, and, with her curly red hair flying behind her, glides across the smooth ice.

He's determined to make her see the possibility of a life that she can have, if she wants it enough to seek it.

And he believes that she does.

* * *

Two days later and he's bouncing up to her during breakfast.

"Rosie! Rosie!" He yells, knowing that she hates that nickname.

She sighs, and puts the spoon filled with cereal back in it's bowl. "What is it, Lysander?"

"Guess what I found," he says, incredibly happy.

"What?" She's annoyed, anybody can tell that, but he keep on talking like it's the best day of his life.

"Names."

"Names?"

"Names."

She stares at him, waiting for him to elaborate, but all he does is smile. "Y'know, your smile is starting to creep me out, so I'm just gonna ask even though I'll probably regret it- names of what?"

"Names of Muggle ice skaters," he says, still flashing his smile at her.

She sighs again, and runs a hand through her hair. "Alright, like who?"

He clears his throat and pulls out a list of names from his pocket. "Like Stephanie Main, Zoe Jones, Jenna McCorkell, Tammy Sear-"

"Okay, okay," she says as she outs her palms up in the air. "Fine. There are people who've lived like that. But _I_ can't."

"And why not?"

"I...it's not _practical_, Lysander."

"Practical, Shma-itcal. You can do it if you want to," he says.

"And if I don't want to? If I just want a normal life?" She counters, her face inches away from his.

"Rose, normal was never your style."

And she just shots him a look of annoyance and leaves him there, smiling in defeat.

"For the record," she calls from the stairs. "You're not so normal yourself, Scamander."

"What's so good about being normal, anyway, Weasley?"

And for once, she doesn't have an answer and gets a head start in the chase.

(Because he'll always chase after her, even if they don't know it themselves.)

* * *

The rest of fourth year passes by in a blur mixed with memories from fifth and sixth year, until, finally, their very last year at Hogwarts has come.

Throughout those years, he's tried and tried again to convince her that she's something special, something more than _just_ a famous Weasley.

Throughout those years, he's chased after her again and again and again, catching her for just a second- but, running was always what she did best next to ice skating.

And she hasn't realized that he's always been there.

(Because she's too busy trying to assemble dreams to ever notice the people around her.)

* * *

She runs, and he chases, catching her for just a second, before she escapes from his grasp yet again.

(And, yeah, she becomes one of the most famous ice skaters the world has ever known.)

(All because of him.)

(Because of him.)

(Who's always been there for her.)

But, the chase continues.

And it continues and continues and continues and continues until-

Yeah, they get married.

* * *

**a/n:** if you liked it enough to favorite/alert, please don't do so without reviewing.

Feel free to request a pairing.


	8. DominiqueTeddy

**a/n:** i wrote this to get over writer's block. do not have high expectations for it, because it clearly sucks.

**word count:** 631

choose, baby boy  
DominiqueTeddy

:-:

please show me what i'm looking for  
save me, i'm lost  
( _carolina liar_ )

* * *

Oh, foolish boy- couldn't you tell that she was always caught under your spell? No? Well, you always were oblivious, even as a child.

But she was. She was, she was, she was and she was.

And she still _is_.

But you still don't know, do you?

Because you were too caught up in a mix of fire_fire_ hair and emerald green eyes. Or, you were hooked on a girl with perfect_perfect_ hair and crystal clear blueblue eyes.

But never caught in the web of the red hair with golden highlights or dark blue eyes like storms that scare the hell out of anybody when she's angry. A girl that you never really paid attention to, to tell the truth.

What did you pay attention to?

Girls that sparkled.

Girls that gleamed.

Girls that were _radiant_, like the sun, like the moon, like anything that sparkled even the slightest bit.

You noticed girls that were perfect, and that _shined, shined, shined _as hard as they can, as much as they can- they _shined, shined, shined, _so much that you couldn't see, couldn't think of anybody else.

But, honey, what about the girls that shined without trying?

Sure, they were a little bit more in the background, a little bit quieter, but no less pretty or amazing as any other. They were modest, but determined and brave.

Sound like anyone you know, boy?

Of course it doesn't.

Like I said, you were the oblivious one.

Squint if you have to, just see her, okay? Because she isn't going to wait around for you forever, unlike the others that you could fall for who would do anything to get you to notice them, as if you didn't notice them already.

Because they were quite oblivious, too, if you really think about it.

Clearly, you were interested. Clearly, they were interested. The dilemma? You have to pick. One and only one.

But they'll be there for a long time, while the smartest one, the one who is, as you think of it, the most valuable prize- she won't be there. As always, the best prize is snatched up first.

(It hasn't been snatched up yet, thought. Almost. _Almost_. But not yet.)

(Make your choice, boy.)

(And soon.)

(Because otherwise, you won't have anyone to end up with.)

(And you don't want that now, do you?)

So choose, baby boy. Choose, and all you're problems will be gone. Don't worry about the others because they'll all find their Prince Charming's, and you can't be the Prince to more than one Princess, now, can you? Because, surely, they all are Princesses. And, surely, you are a Prince. No point in denying that, no, not at all.

Can you figure out which one you want?

Because time is running out.

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two-

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three-

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four-

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five-

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six-

Ten, nine, eight, seven-

Ten, nine, eight-

Ten, nine-

Times up.

Have you chosen?

Have you?

_Have you?_

You have?

Good, good.

Now, did you pick the one with the firefire hair and green eyes that's dressed in silver and green pride? The rebel of the family with a sarcastic tongue, did you choose her?

No? Smart choice.

What about the one with long golden hair and crystal blue eyes that looks pretty on the outside, but is venomous on the inside? One that would be a world famous actress, if she could figure that out herself and wasn't waiting for you?

Oh goody, you didn't.

Does that mean what I think it does?

_Does it?_

* * *

_Five years later_…

"_Dominique_ and _Teddy_ are getting…_married_?"

Oh yes.

I knew it all along.

* * *

**a/n:** wow...this was very ramble-y. i'm quite sorry for that.

Please, if you like it enough to favorite/alert, don't do so without reviewing.

Feel free to ask for requests as long as you hand me a couple prompts with it.


	9. LorcanRoxanne

**a/n: **for Mew, because she is wonderful.

wordcount: 838

ten things about a certain Scamander  
LorcanRoxanne

it's ah, ah, obvious to me  
how it's gonna be  
( _hey monday _)

* * *

Dear Diary,

There were ten things that I want to share about a certain someone.

Ten things about Lorcan Scamander.

Yeah, I know, I know. I gotta stop dedicating pages to people. But, I swear, they're fun to write and to look at later.

No, really, it's so fun. Don't you mock me. (Ha, you can't mock me. You're an inanimate object. You can't even talk. Ha.)

Anyway…

One, Lorcan was should have been in Gryffindor instead of Ravenclaw, standing up to those Slytherin jerks for me.

Not like I couldn't have not done it myself, it's just that he got to it before I did. But still, it was the most chivalrous thing any guy has ever done for me. And, it was in third year, four years ago.

Did I mention that every other Weasley-Potter did that for me, too? Yeah, I was going through some tough times back then.

But still. It was him who mattered.

Two, Lorcan was down right crazy.

(This is actually a well-known fact, but still.)

In that Gryffindor way, though, so, we go back to number one. But still, he's been part of the group since that day in third year, and it's really an asset if we think about it because we never really had the brains to our- Fred's, Lily's, Dominique's and I's -pranks before, but now we have him. And that's probably the best thing that's happened to the four of us since Lily got sorted into Slytherin.

Three, I was pretty sure he was tired of being compared to his brother.

They're both Seventh years, like us, but Lysander is the captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, taller than him and is fawned over by every girl at the school. I believe that Lorcan has his own admirers, too, but he's too humble and oblivious to see it.

Oh, sure, they used to be back before Hogwarts, but they really haven't been that close since then.

And I've heard him complaining about everyone, especially girls, getting him confused for his brother. But I know how to tell them apart. That's why he loves me, he says, but he also says that there are other things that he loves about me. In a completely platonic way, of course.

Four, he loves his Mother more than anything.

No, I swear it's true.

And I think it's cute. He's always looking out for her, and I've seen him punch several people who make fun of _The Quibbler_ and has gone on several expeditions with her in looking for creatures that he doesn't even believe exists, he's just going to make her happy.

Five, he's absolutely the most uncoordinated person I've ever met.

Now I know why he didn't try out for Quidditch like his brother.

No, I swear, he spills at least one thing a day. Usually it ends up on me. But I'm used to it by now, so all is good.

Six, he's a beast at guitar.

He's specifically told me that I'm the only one who he's played songs for, and I am touched. Because his songs are just so, so, _so_ amazing and beautiful. His lyrics are meaningful and like poetry, and his voice- oh, Merlin, his voice -it's just…amazing.

I can't describe it a better way besides…can you guess it?

_Ah-mazing._

Seven, he's afraid of heights.

Another reason why he's, not only horrible at flying, but doesn't enjoy Quidditch a lot.

Heights, heights, heights.

It's his only phobia, I swear. Otherwise he's completely and utterly brave in that crazy way I've mentioned before.

Eight, he's told me that he's never been kissed before.

Said he was waiting for the right girl.

Wanna know a secret 'bout me?

I haven't had my first kiss, either.

I'm secretly hoping for him to be my first kiss.

Nine, he's had a girlfriend.

For a week.

Tori, or Victoria or Lori or something like that. Anyway, she was what I call 'artificial.'

Like I said, they never kissed.

Than they broke up for unknown reasons. I was glad.

He claims there was no spark.

But I swear that he winked at me when he said it.

Ten, I'm pretty sure that I am one-hundred percent, completely in love with him.

I know, right?

I am such a sap when it comes to this kind of stuff.

But I swear that I won't admit it if anyone but him asks me.

So, shh…

(Maybe I'll tell him today. Maybe.)

* * *

_Six years later…_

"Can you believe it?" Lorcan says, wrapping an arm around me.

"Six years as of today," I say as I nod. "Six years of being in this amazing and wonderful relationship. I know, I can't believe it."

"Good thing I found that journal, huh?" He says, smiling at me. I punch him playfully on the arm.

"Never look in my diary again. You hear?"

(But that was the best thing that's ever happened to me, I won't even bother to try and deny it.)

* * *

**a/n:** if you like it enough to favorite, please don't forget to leave a review.

feel free to request a pairing as long as you add a prompt with it,


	10. MollyTeddy

**a/n:** this did not come out as planned. but...i sort of like it.

wordcount: 1,192

naturally shining  
MollyTeddy

all i wanted was you  
all i wanted was you  
( _paramore_ )

* * *

Molly Weasley was one who shone easily. One who easily claimed the center of attention and laughed at all the right moments.

But that was with all the right practice, and there might be just one boy- no, _man _-who made it seem like she never had all that practice in the first place.

Teddy _fucking _Lupin.

Yeah. Of course it would be him.

* * *

She had walls of steel that she carefully placed around herself as protection. She's heard the stories of heartbreak, she's heard the stories of happy-endings, she's heard the stories of someone pining over the same person for years and years and never doing anything about it and she was not going to be one of those girls.

But Molly did not believe in love, anyway, so it wasn't that much of a problem.

Not that sappy, perfect, _romantic _kind of love, anyway. The kind of love that was seen in Muggle films and books- oh no, that could never happen in real life at all.

At least, not for her.

(Here's when her walls of steel can be counted as a bad thing.)

However, when she sees Victoire with Teddy Lupin, she just slightly believes in happily-ever-afters and Prince Charmings and all that shit that she never, _ever_, believed in before. But then butterflies erupt in her stomach, and she's back to cursing the thing called 'love' because, surely, she would not have her own happily-ever-after when _she's (_Meaning Victoire, obviously_.) _got him, and she has nobody herself.

And that's what she believes, ninety-nine percent, that is. That she'll die alone, and happily at that.

But there's one percent, that small sliver of a percent, that doesn't believe in what she tries to convince herself. Because there has to be just a small piece of everyone that believes, that hopes, that dreams, because without that, they'd be absolutely nothing.

And Molly Leanne Weasley was coming pretty close to being that absolutely nothing.

* * *

He was always there in her life- haunting her is the way that she thinks describes him best, because he would always remind her of what she could never, ever have.

But she has the stage. She has Shakespeare, and colorful hair, and tattoos of dragons painted on her skin, and she has her friends, her family- that's what matters most.

She may not have him.

But she has just about everything else.

(And she was just beginning to think why should he be any different?)

* * *

It sort of spirals a little bit out of hand one night during the Winter Holiday. She's downstairs in the kitchen because she can't sleep. (Any guesses why? _Him, him, him. _Yup, that's the reason why.)

And he goes downstairs for just a simple glass of milk, one that will hopefully lull him to sleep.

But, of course, she doesn't let him go back upstairs as easy as he would like.

"Teddy," she says, smiling her best smile at him.

"Yes, Molly?" He says as he sits down next to her. She moves her chair closer to him, not so indiscreetly as one would thought that she'd do.

"Can you change your hair to match mine?" She says, pointing to her electric-blue colored hair.

"Uh, yeah, I guess so," he says as his hair changes from his natural, mousy brown to the same shade of blue that Molly has.

"Yay!" She says as she claps her hands. "Now, we match!"

He laughs. "I suppose we do, Molls."

"Y'know, we haven't been spending as much time as we had before you started dating Victoire," Molly states.

That was true, at least. At one point in time, Molly and Teddy were just about as close as Teddy was with Lily. But their friendship faded quickly into dust as he fell deeper, deeper into Victoire.

He sighs, and runs his hand through his hair. "No, we haven't. I've been meaning to take you out to dinner, but you know how Victoire gets."

Molly laughs, because she does know how Victoire gets crazy jealous. "Yeah, I know how she would react. But why don't we talk now? No Victoire to yell at us, no family to interrupt."

He glances back up at the staircase. "I really should be going back upstairs…"

"Oh, but Teddy!" Molly says. "Come on, we haven't talked in _ages_ and soon I'll be going on tour with my Muggle theatre group for months!"

"Really? You're going on tour?"

"See," Molly points out. "You didn't even know that. How can you know if I have a bloke in my life or not?"

"Because you said 'bloke', and I doubt that you would describe your boyfriend like that, I don't think you have a boyfriend right now, is that correct?" Teddy says as Molly pushes him lightly on the arm.

"Alright, true," Molly says. "But I don't believe in love, anyway."

"Oh, come on Molly, what happened to that little girl that danced in tutus that said she wanted to marry me one day?" Teddy says as raises his eyebrows. "I mean, you must believe in it."

She blushes at the reminder of that memory. "I was seven, Teddy," she says. "I didn't know what I wanted."

"So now you don't want me?" He says as he moves in on her.

"I never said that," she says.

Her breath hitches as he moves closer and closer, until they are only centimeters apart. And, Merlin, how she wants this, how she wants him but-

"Victoire," she murmurs once their lips are just about to touch.

"Come on, Molly," Teddy says as he tilts his head. "One, tiny, kiss can't hurt, can it?"

But it does, oh, how it does.

And the kiss wasn't meant to be the beginning of a disaster-girl, it was meant to be wonderful and perfect and amazing and, truthfully, it was.

It was everything that Molly wished and hoped and thought it would be, and when he pulled away she wanted to grab him and _forget_. Forget about her life, forget about the tour, forget about everything.

But she never had it easy.

And when he goes back upstairs, he winks at her and she notices that his hair is changed back to the color of Lily's fiery red hair.

She would always come in second place, it seemed.

* * *

She went on the tour and sung her heart out in the musical numbers, and the crowds, all of them, just loved her and she _alwaysalwaysalways_ had a standing ovation at the end, which just made her shine even more than she did before.

And when she went back to England to perform her last and final performance, she immediately noticed her huge family in the crowd and it took all her will to stand on that stage and do what she's been doing for months.

She came back shining brighter than ever before, but, of course, there was still one little fault within that shining star.

And she had a feeling it would always be there.

(Because, as long as he'd be there, she'd always have a little bit of hope that he'd choose her instead of anybody else.)

* * *

**a/n: **if you like it enough to favorite, please don't do so without reviewing.

Feel free to ask for a pairing as long as you add a prompt with it.


	11. AlbusJuliet

**a/n: **i actually sort of like this one. xD

wordcount: 1388

* * *

long time a-coming  
AlbusJuliet

so raise your glass if you are  
wrong in all the right ways  
( _p!nk _)

* * *

The two are (supposed to be) an antilogy, differing in just about everything. But, really, if you think about it, they aren't.

They're both ridiculously competitive and determined, but they're placed in opposite and their families have an unspoken rivalry since their parents were in the same year.

But they aren't their parents.

And isn't that what everyone is trying to prove these days?

* * *

"Oi, Severus." No matter what he says, Juliet calls him that anyway. "What're you doing?"

He snorts. "Like you care, Vega." Now it's his turn to call her by her middle name- which he knows she hates. She throws a pencil at the back of his head, but he catches it with his trained reflexes because of Quidditch and returns to what he was doing.

And, although they're always bickering, its always been in a friendly way and neither really hate each other. Think of their relationship like a brother-sister kind of relationship, always arguing but really secretly loving each other on the inside.

She goes over to him and sits on his shoulder, overlooking what he was doing.

"You draw, Potter?" Juliet asks. He looks up- his _greengreen _eyes meeting her _blueblue _eyes.

"Yeah, actually, I do," he says. She looks at him, than his sketchbook, than back to him in a second and grabs his book before he can stop him.

"They're okay," she admits with a shrug as she looks at the sketches. She flips through the rest of his drawings quickly, opens to a blank page and then grabs the pencil that he threw at him before.

"What're you doing, Parkinson?" He asks as he tries to see what she was doing, but she holds his sketchbook up to her chest so that he can't see.

"Drawing, of course," she replies, going back to her page.

He sighs. "Well, I guess what I meant is _what _are you drawing in _my _sketchbook, exactly?"

"You," she says, smiling. "But don't expect much, because I'm rubbish at art."

He laughs. "Yeah, I bet you are." And, of course, she can't help but hit him on the head with his book. "Ow," he says as he rubs the spot that was hit. "Couldn't you be a bit gentler? I do plan on living, y'know."

"Oh, be quiet- I didn't hit you _that _hard," Juliet says as she smiles and returns to the book.

He sighs, and plays with his fingers for five minutes before he caves, and says, "Can't I just see what you're doing?"

"No."

"Please?" He says in a higher tone, and bats his eyelashes.

"Who are you, you're sister?" Juliet asks him. "Besides, Lily found out a long time ago that puppy eyes doesn't work on me."

So, he turns away and leans back in the chair, defeated and _ohso_ very bored. She smiles privately at the victory and returns to her drawing, which she knows won't be nearly as good as his but still, she thought she'd try.

Half an hour later, she says, "Done!"

He turns around, surprised, and says, "Done?" She nods. "Well, let me see it." He says as he holds out his hand for her to put the sketchbook in it. He has to admit it, it was very good. Not as good as his, even he knows that, but not as bad as she probably thinks it his.

"I know," she says. "It sucks."

"No it doesn't," Albus protests. She laughs. "No, really, it isn't bad. It's actually really, really good, Juliet."

She tucks a loose piece of hair behind her ear, and smiles brightly. "Well, thank you, Severus." She takes the sketchbook back and signs it. "There. Now it'll be worth a fortune or when I'm big and famous and, when you're living in the streets eating nothing but cockroaches, you can sell it and eat _properly._"

He laughs, but part of him thinks that even then he wouldn't sell it to someone. "Y'know, I'd like to draw you sometime," he says all of sudden. He really doesn't know where it came from, but from the expression on her face he isn't really sorry he said it.

She leans on her hands, which are propped up on her knees. "And why's that?"

"Uh, well, you have a pretty…face," he stammers.

She raises her eyebrow. "A pretty…face?"

After a slight hesitation, he says, "Yes."

She straightens up, and crosses her arms. "Well, then, thank-you," she says. And then, she adds, "You're not too bad looking yourself."

And he can't help but laugh when she says this.

"So, tomorrow, at seven, in the library?" He asks.

"Tomorrow at seven, what?"

"When I draw you, of course," He says immediately.

She nods. "Yes, sounds perfectly fine. Bye for now, Albus," Juliet says as she waves and walks away.

And even though he should be thinking about how to draw her, or the last Quidditch game coming up, or even the test in transfiguration that he has, he can't help but think-

_She called him Albus._

* * *

The next night at seven, she's as pretty as ever, her dark_dark_ hair sprawled around her in a purposefully messy way, her blueblue eyes sparkling and, all in all, looking quite happy with herself as she poses and he's thinking that this might be the most happy that he's seen her been as long as they've known each other.

"You should be a model, Vega," Albus says as he sketches.

She just laughs. "As if that'd be possible."

He doesn't argue the point, just focuses on the light and her figure and by the end of the night, he has a pretty good sketch, if he does say so him self. All it needs is a little touching up, and it's finished.

When he shows it to her, she just says, "Y'know, you really underestimate yourself, Severus."

And he swears he sees her wink as she walks away.

* * *

Suddenly, its three months later and her birthday and, although he really isn't obliged to give her a gift, he does so anyway.

He comes up to her as she's leaving dinner, and holds out the wrapped present to her.

"Happy birthday, Vega," he says as she takes the present. She doesn't question and takes the present happily.

Inside is the sketch that he did of her framed and her very own sketchbook with the Slytherin crest drawn on the cover of it.

"Oh, Albus," she says as she runs her fingers over the sketch. "Thank-you."

She hugs him in gratitude, and he hugs her back, but neither pulls away immediately. Instead, she lingers there for a few seconds before letting go, contemplating why she doesn't want to let him go, and he has a sudden urge to kiss her but thinks better of it.

"I…gotta go," he says as he points back towards the Great Hall. "Family waiting."

She nods, and tucks a piece of her dark hair behind her ear. "Yeah, of course."

"Happy birthday, Juliet," he says as she's leaving.

Maybe they weren't meant to be, he thinks, but she sure is pretty.

But little does he know what fate has in store for them.

* * *

One year later, and their last day of Hogwarts arrives. The two are both sad, but excited for what the future has in store for them.

"Oi, Vega," Albus says as he gets off the train and spots her head in the crowd. She turns around, as pretty as ever, and walks over to him. "We should…y'know, keep in touch."

"Yeah, yeah we should," she says. After a few minutes of awkward silence, she says, "Have a nice summer, Severus."

But when she begins to walk off, Albus grabs her arm and spins her around, and, before he really knows what he's doing, he's kissing her. He pulls her closer against him and his fingers are outlining her face as she locks her own fingers around his neck, pushing deeper and deeper into the kiss. Her legs are wrapped around his waist, and a small moan leaves him that she returns.

"Yeah," she says, breaking the kiss. "We definitely have to keep in touch."

And he laughs just before he captures another kiss that's gladly accepted.

(And, really, it's been a long time coming so neither are really surprised by it.)

* * *

**a/n:** if you liked it enough to favorite/alert, please leave a review.

Feel free to as for a pairing request, as long as you give a prompt with it.


	12. TeddyLucy

**a/n: **this isn't a freeverse, but I just wanted to do a play with underlining and stuff. Y'know, just to try it out. I'm sorry if it bugs you at all, because those can get on my nerves a bit, too.

word count: 1966

* * *

the writing girl  
TeddyLucy

life is my creation, is my best friend  
imagination is my defense

( _kerli _)

* * *

She's really the only one (Boy or girl.) that _believes _in fairytales and all that shit like that in the (Next-Generation) Weasley family.

She's smiling pretty, pretty, looking like she's _living a dream_, and carrying around that little notebook of hers, with a pen or pencil behind her ear, always ready to write down inspiration when it hits for that next best-seller of hers.

(And, he knows how good they are, because he's read them and they can definitely be the next best-seller if she wants them too.)

She escapes to the attic- a place, that's her escape and her own personal garden (though, there aren't any flowers up there) and sanctuary. A place to imagine, and confess _secrets_, and just be or do anything that she wants to be in that little, tiny space .

* * *

He finds her there one summer day, sitting cross-legged and listening to a Muggle music device, notebook sprawled out in front of her. Her eyes are closed and her pencil is tapping along to the beat, or at least that's what he thinks she's doing. (She always had a soft spot for Muggle things.)

He invites himself in, and also sits cross-legged next to her. She doesn't notice her at first, but when she turns and catches his glance, she calmly removes one of her earbuds from her ear and raises her eyebrows at him. Teddy can hear the music blasting from the headphones, and it's a mixture of **guitar solos **and **heavy drum beats**, and, really, that kind of music had always scared him, but he tries to ignore it.

They say nothing to each other.

Him because he doesn't know what to say, and her because she just isn't the one to…well, y'know, _speak. _And so, of course, Teddy b_rea_ks the silence because she doesn't speak unless spoken to, as the family has found out so many years ago.

"So…your writing?" Teddy asks slowly. She just nods. "What about?"

She sighs, and removes the other earbud from her ear and pushes the notebook towards him. She motions with her pencil towards the book filled with words.

"Read it. But I recommend starting from the beginning." She says as she flips to the first page of the notebook. And before he can say anything else, she places her earbuds back in her ear, closes her eyes and returns to her world of music.

Teddy can still hear the **drum beat **and **the guitar **and **screaming vocals**, but not as much as before.

The story goes almost to the end of the book, leaving just a few blank pages at the end. He looks at her, because, he thinks, it'll take him at least an hour to finish reading, and, really, he has better things to do. (Which is a lie, really, because he doesn't have anything better to do.) But she's still encased in her _own_ little world of rhythm. (And that's nothing new.)

And so, he does what she told him to do (Doesn't he always?) and starts reading the story that she's written.

And, bloody hell, it's **really**, utterly, _fantastic_.

To his surprise, it takes him **less** than an hour to finish, because he just wants to know what happens to the characters, and, even though he isn't that much of a reader, he just wants to read _more._ (And he thinks why aren't all books written like this?)

"Lucy," he says one he's done. She doesn't hear, of course, with her music _too_ loud in her ears, he taps her on the shoulders. Her eyes flutter open, a little bit of annoyance in her two_ crystal-clear _blue eyes, but takes her earbuds out anyway. "Its really good," he says.

She smiles. "Thank-you," she says as she tiles her head, her long, blonde hair covering one side of her face.

They sit in silence the rest of the day.

(And he tries not to think about how much she **scares** him and **fascinates** him at the same time.)

* * *

The next time they see each other is Christmas Holiday, and she's sitting in the corner in an old armchair, legs crossed and notebook open. He notices it's a new notebook than before.

"Hello, Stranger," Teddy says as he leans against her chair.

And It shouldn't be a surprise to him that she's listening to her music, but it does and he sort-of-kind-of-maybe feels _just a little bit _hurt that she didn't hear him. So, what else does he do but tap her on the shoulder? She looks up at him, with those same _crystal-clear _blue eyes, and smiles.

After she takes her earbuds out (He can still hear the **poundings of the drum **and the **strumming of the guitar**, by the way.) she says, "Hiya, Teddy. How're you?"

"Good, good. My life is…well, to be honest, quite boring right now." She laughs at this, and he just smiles.

"What? _Tired_ of Auror Training, already, ol' Teddy pal?" Lucy jokes him, raising her eyebrows.

"Uh, actually, I was just gonna give an announcement about that at dinner," Teddy says as his hair changes from the mousy-brown to a bright fuchsia.

"Oh? And what would that be, exactly?" Lucy says to him, leaning on one of her hands towards him, clearly interested.

"I dunno…"

"Oh, c'mon, Teddy, you were gonna tell me anyways. Why not now?"

"Alright, fine," Teddy says. "I…quit the Auror program."

Lucy is surprised, but not as much as he thought she'd be. "Really?"

"Yeah," he says.

"When?"

"Just today, actually," Teddy says. "On Harry's and Ron's day off, coincidentally." She just smiles at him.

"So, what're you gonna do now?"

"I was actually hoping to get a job working at the Prophet," Teddy says. "As a-"

"Journalist, correct?" Lucy interrupts. He nods. "Well, I think its positively brilliant, what you're doing."

(He feels blush creeping up on his cheeks. He tries to get it to stop. But, of course, it doesn't work and still lingers there.)

"Why, thank you," he says back to her. After a brief moment of silence, he says, "So, new notebook, I noticed."

She holds up the cover to reveal a sleek, black leather journal. "Yeah. I finished three other notebooks, actually, since you saw me last."

"_Three_?"

"Yup," Lucy says as if it was nothing. She holds up three fingers. "Three. Y'know, after two before four?"

He shots her a look, but changes it quickly and pushes her slightly on the arm. "I know what three is, silly, but isn't that…a lot of writing to do in just a few months?"

"Let's see, Teddy," She says as she swings her legs up on the chair. "You last saw me in June. That's, what about eight months ago? No, I don't think that's a lot at all. In fact, I'm a little bit disappointed that I didn't write more."

"Disappointed? Lucy, you needn't be disappointed- _I _would be amazed if I could fill one journal in a year," Teddy says.

"Well, you're becoming a journalist, you must love writing," Lucy counters. "And, for me, when I get into a story I just want to keep on writing, and writing, and writing because I want to see what happens next, much like when I'm _reading _a book."

"Y'know, I still remember your story all those months ago," he confesses as he runs his hand through his hair. "You words really amazed me."

"Amazed? As in past tense?"

"Alright, I'm sure they're still amazing," he says. "But I wouldn't know. I haven't read them since _June._"

"And I bet you anything that my writing is better than it was in June," she says as she hands him the notebook. "Here. Read it."

And so, he reads.

And is _blown away _once again by her clever placement of words and character development and, because he just wants to know what happens like she said she does when she's writing it, he finishes it before dinner. Somehow, she manages to slip away into the Weasley family crowd without him noticing, so he has to search for that little blonde head of hers.

But he doesn't see her again until dinner.

* * *

"So, Teddy," Harry starts. "How's training?'

He can feel Lucy staring at him, waiting for his answer. "Actually, Harry," He says, and eats a pea before continuing. "I quit."

The table is deadly quiet for a moment, all eyes on him, before chaos absolutely _explodes_, with practically everybody yelling at him, along with a few sibling arguments going on.

But he catches Lucy's eye and she winks at him.

(And it gives him reassurance that everything's going to be alright.)

* * *

As everyone is drifting off to sleep, Teddy finds her outside with a bottle of Muggle alcohol in her hand. She hears him coming, but doesn't know it's _him, _so she says:

"Go away, I don't want company."

"Not even if it was me?" He teases as he sits down next to her. "Y'know, that stuff will be the death of ya," he tells her.

She turns, her eyes squinted and waves the bottle at him. "Don't you think I don't not know that? Of course I do! But tonight, I will gladly accept it."

He disregards the first sentence as proving that she's drunk, before he takes the bottle.

"Oi!" She protests as she tries to reach over him and grab the bottle, but his hand is outstretched and she can't reach.

"Lucy," he says once she stops trying to get the bottle back. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened," she says. "Nadda. Zip, zero. Nothing."

"You are a rubbish liar, do you know that?"

She sighs. "Alright, fine." She turns to him, and says, "Y'know that Scamander bloke I've been seeing?" He nods, even though he really didn't know she was seeing anybody. "He broke up with me. This afternoon. Through _a letter! _He didn't even have the guts to wait and tell me in person!"

(And so her beliefs of fairytales and castles _crumble_ underneath her.)

"I'm sorry, Luce," he says as she leans her head on his shoulder and he begins running his hand through her hair.

"It's S'okay," she says. "I didn't want a cheater as a boyfriend, anyway."

"He cheated?" Teddy asks, surprised at this new information.

"I dunno the details, but apparently he hooked up with some other slutty girl and decided that he wanted her more than me so-" she holds her thumb up and brings it over her shoulder like she's throwing something "-Bye, bye me."

"Well, that sucks, Lucy," he says.

"Clearly." She grabs the bottle from his hands when he isn't looking and takes another sip, then burps. "Teddy," she says as she lifts her head from his shoulder. "Is it possible that there's only one decent guy on this whole planet?"

"Oh, and who would that be?"

"You, of course," she says as if it was obvious. "Because, let's face it, you're everything that every other guy has never been for me."

"You'll find someone, Luce," he says as she's falling asleep, her head back on his shoulder. "I know you will."

(And, he doesn't know where this new-born adoration for her came from, but he _hopes _that that guy will be him and she'll show her how to believe in _everything_ that he doesn't.)

* * *

In the end, she gets married to the same Scamander that broke her heart and decides that there _isn't _only one decent guy on the planet, apparently.

And he's left in the dust, alone in this big, _big_ world because he feels that there really isn't anybody that can make him _feel _like **she** does.

(And as their saying their _I do's_ he tries so deeply to ignore the feeling of his heart b-b-_breaking _inside him.)

* * *

**a/n: **if you liked it enough to favorite/alert, please don't do so without reviewing!

Feel free to request a pairing as long as you add some prompts with it.


	13. LorcanDominique

**a/n: **i've been neglecting this collection. sorry!  
for allie's hope challenge: Four Seasons Romance Challenge at HPFC.**  
prompts: **breeze, fireworks & hot chocolate**  
word count: **661

* * *

of heartbreak & hoping  
LorcanDominique

* * *

**[fall]**

_i. leaves the color of her hair are trickling down from trees like a rainstorm_

She's outside the castle, dancing and laughing and smiling as the leaves fall around her and, really, he's not surprised- because that's just what she _does_.

(It's a known fact that Miss Dominique Weasley enjoys life and tends to make it worthwhile.)

He doesn't go and join her, instead just stands and watches her because that what _he _does- admire from afar, because he never has the courage to ask her out.

(It's a known fact that Mister Lorcan Scamander is the shyest one of the two Scamander brothers.)

She continues dancing as the day switches to night, but he leaves once the first star appears and the breeze starts to pick up.

(But the main star [her] stays where she is until the very last, absolute minute.)

**[winter]**

_ii. she sparkles like the stars, but doesn't like to be in the spotlight._

She's born on December 25th, and everyone always jokingly says that she ruined their Christmas. (She hates her birthday- she hates being in the spotlight.)

Late on Christmas Eve, he finds her sitting at the kitchen table, a notebook placed on the table and pencil hovering slightly above the lines.

"Can't sleep?" He asks as he joins her. She closes her notebook.

"Something like that," she says.

After a moment of silence, he says, "Want some hot chocolate?"

"Sure," she answers as she tucks a piece of her dark red hair behind her ear.

"So," he says as he's making the hot chocolate. "Happy early birthday, by the way."

She snorts. "Thanks, I suppose."

"Mm."

They sit in a comfortable silence- him making the hot drink and her writing in her notebook -until he clunks down two steaming hot mugs on the table.

"Your drink," he says as he sits.

"Thank you," she answers as she takes her cup in her hand. "Mmmm," she sighs as she takes a sip of her drink. "Just what I needed."

"Good," he says.

They talk for who knows how long that night, about anything and everything that comes to mind, and go into the early hours of Christmas day until they're interrupted by Lily who comes bouncing down the stairs happily, ready to open whatever presents she has under the tree.

The rest of the day passes quickly, but Lorcan sees that she always has that notebook around with her, and, as much as she wants to fade into the background, she never did. (At least, she never faded so much that he couldn't see her.)

**[spring]**

_iii._ _and there's nothing like a good love triangle to sort out all of your feelings for a girl, is there?_

And, yeah, maybe in the Spring she starts dating his brother- but he can hope, right? Everyone deserves to be able to hope, no matter what the situation.

And that's exactly what he does.

Hope and hope and hope and hope. (And hope and hope.)

But does it do any good for his situation?

I'll give you a hint: it starts with an 'N'.

**[summer]**

_iv. and sometimes, you just need to give up a little to find what your supposed to do_

In the Summer, he goes over to the Weasley's annual barbecue just like he always does. (So, it's technically a Potter-Weasley-Scamander-Longbottom barbeque, but _whatever_.)

She's there, of course.

And so is his brother.

The two aren't separated for the rest of the day. (_Month. Year_.)

And when they blast off the fireworks and sees them kissing, he starts to pretend like he doesn't feel anything for her.

(And that's when he starts to give up, ever so slowly.)

* * *

In the end, all of his hoping doesn't do him any good, no matter how much he wishes it would.

Because he's the best man for his brother's wedding.

And can you guess who he's marrying?

Yup.

_Her._

(And so, his heart finally starts to break.)

* * *

**a/n: **i couldn't bare to give these two a happy ending- i just can't see them together. hopefully i'll write some fluff soon.  
if you like it enough to favorite/alert, please leave a review with it.


	14. VictoireLysander

**a/n:** as requested by BlueEyes444 AGES ago, with the song _Hurt _by Johnny Cash. I finally got around to it. XD (Although the song isn't really used - sorry!)

Also—I believe this pairing was found by Morghen, so, yeah—it's a part of Mew & Mor's Weird Pairings.

That is all.

**wordcount: **1078

* * *

heartache & fairytales  
VictoireLysander

_._

Fall head first  
Like paper planes and playground games_  
-Starry Eyed, Ellie Goulding_

* * *

There was a darkness that carefully began to surround him, etching its way around him so cleverly that no one knew. A darkness created by the tears that he's made girls shed, of hearts that he's broken (including his own) and of the fear of never finding somebody to love.

He knew he had a bad reputation.

But sometimes, he just couldn't help himself.

Because he's just looking for his happily ever after, something that everyone deserves, even if they try to find it and hurt so many people along the way.

(You do what you gotta do, right?)

* * *

He meets her when he's ten and she's thirteen and three years too old to play with him and Lily.

He disregards the blonde Veela, thinking that _whatever, she's the one missing out_.

She disregards the blonde Scamander, wondering _does Teddy notice me in this?_

* * *

That was the absolute, very beginning of their story.

But the beginning isn't the important thing. The beginning is full of wondering about the wrong person (_a person who, in the end, will just break them down, into an almost nothingness_.) and playground games and trying to impress someone other than themselves.

So we start in the middle, where he's just gaining his reputation as a heartbreaker and she's still completely ignoring him, dismissing him as a little boy with his heart too far down on his sleeve.

But somewhere along the way, they collide, their separate bubbles popping to form one, new bubble.

* * *

"You ass!" She screams as she approaches him. His friends leave immediately when they heard her yelling from several corridors down. No one wants to be around an angry Weasley (it was a smart move). "I don't care if you break Lily's or Roxanne's or whoever else's hearts, but you broke _Dominique's _and that's crossing the line, Scamander."

He isn't fazed one bit. "Look, would you rather I carried on, not feeling a thing, pretending and all that crap that I loved your sister? Because I didn't."

"Yes, actually, I would've," Victoire says as she places her hands on her hips.

He shrugs. "Look, you have Teddy, right?" She blushes. "True love and shit? Don't you want your sister to find something like that?"

"Yeah, but—"

"It wasn't me. Stop trying to make it be me."

She crosses her arms across her chest. "Fine. I can't not admit that you got a point there."

He smirks, in an _ohso _Slytherin like way. "Don't I?"

With that, he walks away, heading towards the Ravenclaw Common Room, and she heads back to help heal a broken-hearted sister.

(It's their first real interaction. _Ever_.)

* * *

He continues making a string of hearts that he's taken, molding and shaping them in the hopes that they become something different—something that he _needs_.

(Hoping that they'll become part of his happily ever after.)

She pretends not to notice.

She fails—she sees him around the castle, arms tucked around the body of a new girl in a flash of an eye.

She pretends she doesn't notice how all of her (female) cousins have fallen under this Ravenclaw Boy's spell.

(She fails yet again.)

* * *

She isn't sure how it happened.

(No, she does—she just claims that she doesn't.)

What she _does _know is that she was at the bar with some friends, mourning over her break up with Teddy (So much for true love and shit, eh?) when she sees _him _arrive. Its several years of her graduation, one after his, and his history is all but erased from her mind.

He's laughing, surrounded by friends, and its obvious that they've already been to a bar (completely drunk, the lot of them, or at least most of them) so she wonders why they've come to _another _one. She comes and sits on the stool next to her, and she tries to hide her face by looking done. It fails.

"Victoire Weasley, yeah?" He says as he peers over her. She gives up on her not-so-clever disguise.

She sighs. "Yeah."

"What're you doing here?"

"Mourning."

He's taken by surprise. "A death?"

She shakes her head no. "A relationship. Turns out Teddy and I weren't meant for fairytales and shit."

He laughs—she smacks him on the arm. "Ow!" He complains as he rubs it. "I can't believe you just hit me on the arm!"

"Just did."

"Whatever," he says as he pouts and takes a sip from his drink that just arrived. After a few minutes of silence, he says, with his hand out for her to take, "Care for a dance?"

She stands up and takes his hand. "Why not?"

From there, its all sort of a blur. She remembers laughing, smiling, dancing and—_somehow_—kissing.

They end up at his flat, strewing clothes off of each other, him leading the way to the bedroom.

She remembers all of this when she wakes up, his arm draped around her, him snoring lightly.

"Shit," she murmurs.

She gets up suddenly, searching for her clothes, waking him up in the process.

Just as she's putting on her boots, he says, "Where're you going?"

"Home," she replies flatly.

"Oh, come on, Tori," she shoots him a look when he calls her Tori, but he either doesn't catch it or ignores it. "Stay. For a little while, at least."

She gives him a pointed look, hurriedly putting on her coat. "No."

"Why?"

She sighs and stops what she's doing, remembering him at Hogwarts. "Because you are a heartbreaker. And I don't want mine to be part of your collection."

He gets up, then, walks towards her and puts his hands on her arms.

"Your different. You always were." She shoves his hands away. "Can't we at least try this?"

"I don't know, Lysander. You broke my sister's heart—my _cousins, _too—how can I trust you?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. I can't make you trust me. You have to find a way to trust me yourself."

She wraps her arms around herself, and stares at the door, then back at him. "Goodbye, Lysander."

The cycle got flipped.

He's the one with the broken heart this time.

* * *

Exactly a month later, she gets a letter from him.

_Go out with me, Tori?_

_-L.R.S._

She knows who its from, and sits at her desk, weaving the pencil through her hands, trying to decide what to do, for hours on end, until, finally—

_Yes._

_-Victoire_

_(And stop calling me Tori!)

* * *

_**a/n: **if you liked this collection enough to favorite/alert, I would love it if you dropped a review with it.


	15. HugoJuliet

**a/n:** non-linear timeline, yo. Incredibly fun to write, just so you know. ;)

**wordcount**: 1,049

* * *

**they weren't the lucky ones**  
Hugo Weasley & Juliet Parkinson

since the twist of fate when it all broke down,  
and the story of us looks a lot like a tragedy now  
—_The Story of Us, Taylor Swift_

* * *

1.

Juliet sighs, her fingers twisting delicately around her quill. She pauses for a moment, then continues to write on the thin strip of paper. When she's content with what she's written, she rolls it up and hands it to her owl, Apollo.

"Here," she says as she gives it to him. "I don't care where you take this, drop it in a lake for all I care, just take it away—far, far away."

The owl hoots in reply, understanding the message, and flies out through the window. She idly wraps a strand of hair around her finger over and over again, wondering where the paper will land, if anyone will find it.

It wouldn't matter, anyhow. It's not like she signed it.

2.

She's fifteen and he's sixteen, but it's just by a few days. Both are lying on the grass, hands intertwined, smiles across their faces. It's a July night, and after weeks of trying to convince his parents, they've finally agreed to let her stay for a few days. They're still prejudice against her parents (_her mother_) from what happened during the war, says she's a bad influence. He doesn't care, though.

He turns his head towards her. "I like you, y'know," he says, his smile growing even bigger. She turns to face him and rolls her eyes.

"I _suppose _I like you, too," she teases, but the smile creeps across her face despite trying to hide it.

3.

The platform is crowded, smoke everywhere and children running around. She turns to her Mother one final time, whose nose is crinkled as she sees Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, along with Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley. She sees a small boy with carrot-orange hair and big brown eyes being talked to by his Father (_Ron Weasley_). The boy looks eager, and she figures he must be a first year, too.

"Don't go associating yourself with those—" _snarl _"—_Weasley's_, Juliet. They aren't worthy." Her Mother still holds her grudges, too.

That's the last thing she hears her Mother say before she gets on the train. Not an _I love you _or _Write me _or _Make new friends_. Just a warning that she pays no heed to.

4.

The owl glides across the sky, its wings flapping, feathers being fallen from him. He hoots as he sees his fellow owls, fellow birds. He doesn't know when to stop. His master didn't tell him when to.

So he keeps on flying.

5.

He's in that awkward teenage-stage. He's tall and lanky, not yet fully developed, and his voice cracks every now and then as he speaks.

When they're partnered up for a Charms project, she notices something off about him. She feels his gaze linger on her longer than it should and their hands are smaller than a centimeter away from each other. It's as if they're slowly gravitating towards each other, _slowly_, ever so slowly.

She doesn't say anything, though.

6.

The train is still crowded. Less so than the platform, but still. She walks confidently along the corridors, until she spots a compartment with an empty seat.

She invites herself in, not noticing that the girl and boy were in deep conversation. They stop when she enters, and stares at her. She recognizes them, suddenly, as the son and daughter she saw before. The girl smiles.

"I'm Lily," she says, her green eyes sparkling. She motions towards the boy. "This is Hugo. We're cousins."

Juliet nods at them. Even at age eleven, her Mother has taught her the act of being cold, even though she didn't mean to. "Juliet."

"Pretty name," the girl—_Lily_—remarks.

"Thanks."

The boy—_Hugo_—stays silent throughout the rest of the ride.

7.

The owl is tired. He's been flying for who knows how many moon-cycles, and he wants to go home, be petted, be feed. He decides.

He drops the note.

8.

They are a year out of Hogwarts. His music career is picking up and he's playing one, two, three, gigs a month at a local venue. She goes to every single one of them, and knows all his lyrics by heart.

She notices how the girls gazes dawdle on him, and she tries not to feel jealous (_after all, she has him—shouldn't they be jealous of her?_).

He smiles at her from on stage, and she smiles back.

9.

It's the sorting. Most of the eleven-year-olds around her are nervous with anticipation, as she should be, but isn't. Its not as if she doesn't know where she's heading to.

When her name is called, she walks up to the stool confidently, and already knows where she's going to be placed.

"_Slytherin_!"

(_its no surprise_.)

As she sits down at the Slytherin table, she silently hopes for Lily to join her (_Hugo she couldn't care less about_).

"_Slytherin_!"

(_it is a surprise_.)

She feels bad for the Hugo-kid, being one of the last people to get sorted. He probably feels relieved, she thinks, when his name is called.

"_Gryffindor_!"

(its not a surprise to most people—but to her, the shy kid on the train seems anything but a Gryffindor.)

10.

It's five years after they got out of Hogwarts. He's got two albums out and she stays at the flat most of the time; every so often inviting Lily over, but she is mostly by herself.

She can't take it anymore.

"Hugo," she says one night in November. "I don't know if I can keep doing this—watching you live your dreams while I'm just...here."

They argue the night, him trying to convince her to stay ("_I love you, Juliet—won't you stay?_"), her trying to convince him that its for the best. ("_No, Hugo. I need to go and live my life, not just watch yours go by_.")

In the end, she leaves.

(_he becomes heartbroken_.)

11.

The owl turns around, exhausted yet happy to finally be going home. The note is _falling, falling, falling_ down to a river below.

Gently, the note lands in the water, its edges being carefully torn apart by the water. The ink is starting to get blurred around the edges, the words starting to become unreadable.

Still, though, you can make out the message if you look hard enough.

(_Please let me find a way back to where I belong._)

* * *

**a/n:** if you liked it enough to favorite or alert, please leave a review with it.

Feel free to request pairings as long as you leave a prompt(s) with it.


	16. LorcanVictoire

**notes**: I don't even know. I just knew that I need to get Victoire done and out of the way. (I realize I still have VictoireScorpius - that's next.) this has so much fluff in this, that I couldn't have written this. OH BUT WAIT! I did. (And its horrible to admit. :P) I think I'll be going through this collection by (female) characters, now, just so you know.

**word count**: 667 (because I fail at fluff.)

* * *

**bird and star**  
LorcanVictoire

Your skin  
Oh yeah your skin and bones  
Turn into something beautiful  
D'you know for you I bleed myself dry  
For you I bleed myself dry_  
-Yellow, Coldplay_

* * *

They meet on a beach. Lorcan is ten, Victoire twelve. He walks up to her, whose laying on a beach towel, wearing a pink-polka dotted bathing suit.

"I'm Lorcan," he says as he sits down to her. She raises her sunglasses, but says nothing. He sits there awkwardly for a few moments before he says, "Do you want to play with me and my brother?"

Again, she raises her sunglasses. "No," she says.

He gets up after she doesn't say anything else, and goes off to play with his brother. He decides he doesn't like that girl.

/

His opinion of her changes when he sees her cast a hex on his brother after dumping a bucket of water on her; his attempt to get her to play with them (Lorcan was always the more subtle one).

He laughs at his brother and vows never to get her angry.

(He decided he liked that girl.)

/

_sweet dreams, princess, _he whispers to her when he thinks she's asleep. She stays pretending.

She's just waiting for the day that he finally sees her imperfections, picks up his things and leaves her.

Because things can only stay perfect for so long.

/

They go see a black-and-white muggle film festival one night. Its cold, the leaves on the ground are moving with the wind, and they had to bring the comforter from their flat for warmth.

She doesn't pay attention to the film.

Instead, she watches him; watches him watching the movie, watches him laughing, him eating the popcorn that they brought.

When he takes her hand, warmth sprinkles through her body.

_How long can this last_? she wonders as she smiles at him, the boy that's made her feel things she didn't even know possible.

She hope its forever.

In the back of her head, the reason of her voice whispers: _but forever is only in fairytales._

She tries to ignore it.

/

She gets a tattoo of a star on her shoulder, at his suggestion. The star is not big, not flashy. Its just there, as a reminder.

_As a reminder of what you are_, he said. _A star._

She thinks its quite possibly the least thing she actually is; but she says nothing, because he said it and she believes what he says like he's some sort of God.

_You're a star, Tori. Remember that._

(She tries to.)

(Honestly. She does.)

/

Sometimes, she forgets.

/

But then again, there are sometimes when she remembers.

/

When she gets her tattoo of a star, he gets a tattoo of a bird flying on the back of his shoulder blade. Its bigger than her star, much bigger, but Victoire thinks it's the perfect one for him. She smiles at him after its finished; he laughs.

_What? _she asks him as he laughs, still smiling.

_I don't know, _he says. _I just love it when you smile._

(She still smiles.)

/

Sometimes, she'll trace the outline of his bird with her finger tips; lightly and unsure of the path she's taking. Sometimes, he'll kiss her star before she falls asleep, whispering words she's only dreamed of someone saying them to her.

It's almost like a fairy-tale.

And it scares her, just a bit, because she's always been afraid of falling and everyone knows that for it to be a fairy-tale, the Prince and Princess fall undeniably and totally in love with each other.

/

She realizes she's fallen harder and faster than she ever imagined on a Tuesday in December.

He realizes it at the same time.

/

_I love you,_ he says, idly, as he plays with her hair one afternoon.

It isn't the first time he's said it, and it certainly won't be the last, but every time Victoire hears him say it, the words give her a sort of comfort that she could never describe.

_I love you, too,_ she says, completely and utterly sure of herself.

/

They get married on the beach.

* * *

**notes**: um...yeah. Not my best work, but I'm rusty. Feel free to request a pairing with some prompts in a review.  
if you liked it enough to favorite/alert, please leave a review with it.


	17. AlbusLayla

**notes: **yeah. this whole lower-case thing. i'm not gonna lie - its just me being lazy. enjoy the prettiness, but grammar-ly wrong, of the un-capitalization in this piece. so, in this piece, james is older (as always) but layla is albus' age - just thought i should say. i'm not sure about the ending - it seems abrupt and random. please excuse all the rambly-ness of this piece. also, i haven't edited this so i'm sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes.  
**wordcoun**t: 1,158

* * *

**a little bit longer**  
AlbusLayla

I humbly do beseech you of your pardon  
For too much loving you.  
-_Othello_, William Shakespeare

* * *

they meet through his brother.  
(james always was more of the ladies man.)

he tells her that she has pretty eyes, and she laughs devilishly like a slytherin would, despite being in ravenclaw, and walks off arm in arm with james.

* * *

she's the first girl that his brother stays with for more than a month, and that's something to talk about, something to be proud of, something to appreciate. one night, james told him: _she's different, al. i can't explain it. but there's nothing like it._

and that's why he feels so wrong whenever he catches himself watching her a little bit longer than he should, wondering about her a little bit more than he should - because he remembers: _this is james' girl; you have to stay away from her.  
_(nothing sounded quite like a death sentence.)

* * *

the girl has ringlets colored golden-brown and eyes the color of the sea.  
(its hard not to think about her.)

she's this sort of heavenly angel planted here on earth. and, yeah, he knows that its a little bit cheesy and mushy to think such a thing - but he can't help it.  
(oh, look at what she's done to him.)

this girl will be the death of him, he knows.  
(he thinks he might be okay with that, as long as he gets to see her prettypretty eyes.)

* * *

they're in a broom cupboard in a wing of the school that hardly anybody goes to.  
and he thinks: _shit, since when did this start?_ he doesn't really know and he feel like he should, but -

he doesn't.  
(and he doesn't stop it, either. he isn't sure which is worst.)

its small and cramped and cliche and everything but perfect, but, _fuck_, he can't stop. she leaves kisses down his neck, down his chest and he thinks: _james was right - there nothing is quite like it._

they touch each other where only ones who really care - really _love_ - should and he should feel bad, but -

all he feels is home, is pleasantness.

* * *

_fuck, i betrayed james_.

he only just realizes this when he sees them together the next day. she isn't giving him a second glance and he supposes its for the best, but it was his first time and he wonders if it meant anything at all to her, or if she just did it because she was bored but, oh, how he hopes that it meant something.

he convinces himself that it mattered, even if she never said it.

* * *

his heart isn't bulletproof, and when james tells him that, after three months, he told her he loved her and she told him she loved him, it cracks.

* * *

they still meet together, though, every tuesday at eight.

he feels like scum every time, but he never says _no, this has to stop - stop, layla_. no, it always goes on.  
(and on and on and on.)

he isn't sure he wants it to stop, to be honest.

* * *

_do you really love him?_ he asks her one tuesday. he doesn't need to say who he means - she knows. she stops kissing him and looks up; tucks a curl back behind her ear.

silence. _  
i don't know_, she says, and cocks her head to the side.

(nothing changes.)

* * *

sometimes, he'll wonder about her. about him. about james and layla and what would happen if his brother found out. about their future.

_if_ they have a future.

he isn't entirely sure whether he wants to be a part of hers or no.  
(he thinks he might - but only if she wanted to be a part of his.)

* * *

_i know someone who has a crush on you, _lily says one day as she bounces up to him.

_oh?_ he says as he looks at his little sister; elated and giddy. _and who do you think that may be?  
_(honestly, he isn't sure what to think.)

his sister leans in, as if its a secret that she's not supposed to tell.  
(which it probably is - but that's beside the point.)

_vivianna lewis_, she says, smiling.

he ponders what he should do for days before deciding to ask her out.  
(she says yes.)

* * *

vivianna (maria) lewis is a pretty girl; long hair, the color of ash; dark, dark brown eyes and light freckles splattered around her heart-shaped face. to albus, she symbolizes the winter. she isn't cold, or mean, or unhappy, or anything like that at all - its just her appearance; dark, dark, dark in a world full of light.

(layla is spring. he thinks this before coming to the realization that vivianna is winter.)

* * *

he hasn't even gone on three dates with vivianna (winter winter winter) before layla (spring spring spring) comes up to him.

_what the fuck, potter?_ she says. (he swears he hears anger - or maybe more like betrayal - in her voice.) _you're going out with vivianna? why would you do that? what about us?  
_

he laughs coldly, just like she did on the first day they met. _us, layla? there is no us - you love james, i'm going out with viv. all we did was have sex and kiss and i'm tired of it! i want a real relationship, something that's going to last and that isn't as fucked up as this so-called us is! _he silently thanks the gods that their alone, because what a mess this would have become.

she says nothing, just stares at him hardly, cruelly, until her face softens.  
_there could have been - an us, i mean. _her voice is unusually soft, unusually wavering. _if you had just given it more time._

quietly, he replies, _i'm not going to wait forever, lay. and i don't think i can wait any longer.__  
_(and, _goddammit_, he thinks, _since when did i become the girl?_)_  
_

she walks away, then, and he doesn't follow her.

* * *

this love story was a tragedy, beyond no doubt. it started out as one, and ended as one, and that's not going to change.

layla and james got married, after he proposed in front of the entire family (he pretended not to be jealous - just as always). albus and vivianna dated for four years before he cut it off - she threw two vases at his head and cursed him too many times for him to count. he adopted a child named jericho and was a single parent; she had two kids with james and named them persephone hanna and alexander albus (after him).

because if there's anything certain about this love story, its that neither of them were brave enough to follow their hearts; that they were both too scared to do anything but pretend to live in a perfect world with a perfect life.  
(and, secretly, maybe they both hoped that the either would swift each other of their feet and live happily ever after, with everyone else following them.)

* * *

_if you liked it enough to favorite/alert, please leave a review with it_


	18. TeddyJuliet

**notes**: Dude, I don't even know. But I like this a lot better than I thought I would. I'm gonna just say that this is High T for suggestive content, as Juliet is quite a, um, let's just say she isn't a good girl, shall we? Again note: I haven't edited this, so apologies for typos of any sort.  
**word count**: 1,281

x

**and she doesn't have the courage**  
TeddyJuliet

x

It starts with a drink

x

"Juliet_."_

_Smiling. _

"Teddy Lupin. My, My, how I almost didn't recognize you with your dark brown hair instead of something weirdly colorful."

_Laughing. Stops awkwardly._

_Silence._

"So…" (_pause_) "We should catch up. Care for a drink?"

_More smiling. Disbelief._

"I'd love to."

x

It turns out, Teddy's pretty weak at holding alcohol, for only after a couple of drinks he's acting completely ridiculous and she apparates him back to her flat.

"What have you been eating?" She complains to no one in particular; he mumbles an incoherent answer as she heaves him over the couch. He groans and crosses his arms; closes his eyes. "I'm getting you some water, Mr Drunkard," she says, and walks into her kitchen.

She comes back with the glass of water that she said she would bring and makes him drink it all. He groans - again.

"Go to sleep," she orders him.

Unsurprisingly, he doesn't obey. Instead, he drapes an arm around her clumsily and murmurs something that she couldn't hear. She removes his arm and it drops onto his lap.

"Come on, pretty girl," he slurs as he inches closer to her. "Kiss me."

He kisses her before she can respond; and before she realizes it, she kisses him back and the thought _oh, what am I doing? _runs through her head over and over and over again but she can't bring herself to stop.

They end up in her bed before the other one can say otherwise.

x

She clutches the sheets to her naked body and breathes in deeply. She prays he isn't next to her. She turns.

He isn't.

She breathes a sigh of relief and pulls on her clothes. She's smiling just the slightest - but it only lasts until she walks into her kitchen.

"Mornin'."

"Fuck," she says as she sees Teddy cooking something on her stove that's rarely used. He chuckles.

"That's a nice way to greet someone," he says.

She goes and gets herself a cup of water, then asks: "Do you remember what happened last night?" She braces herself for the answer.

He shakes his head no; her heart feels like it just dropped fifty feet. "Oh." Her hand shakes; water spills from her cup. She takes a breath. "Okay."

Teddy stops. "Nothing…Nothing happened last night, did it?"

She doesn't hesitate when she answers -

"No."

She swears she hears him sigh a breath of relief. She rubs her arms self-consciously and pretends that nothing really did happen last night.

The rest of morning passes in just as equal awkwardness. She's surprised he doesn't realize that she lied.

x

The hair on her skin bristles every time she sees him from then on - there's just no escaping it. His arm is _alwaysalwaysalways _around some Weasley-Potter girl and she can't help but think how its so sad that nobody else notices that (or maybe they do - maybe they just say nothing and pretend like its nothing at all).

She plays along with the game that they've all created, and acts like Teddy's this kind of perfect guy with the perfect life instead of having faults and mistakes like everyone else.

(It makes her sick.)

x

But there's this problem, you see, that she can't stop thinking of this so-called angel. It's not obsession, but its not _normal_, either, to think of how his eyes and hair change constantly or how he has a mole on the curve of his neck or about the fact that he jots down notes on his arm or hand whenever he doesn't have paper.

Because, see, he's not meant to end up with someone like her. He's meant to be with his complimenting angel Victoire or his fiery opposite Lily or even someone whose quiet and underestimated, like Lucy (though, really, she doubts he'd ever get with Lucy).

Because understand this: Juliet is as fiery as Lily, but she's ohso very sarcastic and violent and can be down right mean sometimes, really. Which is why they're never meant to be together.

So she pretends that the one night stand didn't ever happen, just as she always does.

(Oh, how it tires her.)

x

She walks in on Lily and Teddy one evening in the Summer while she's staying at the Burrow, hands roaming each others bodies and lips attached. She stands on the staircase, frozen, the two not having noticed her.

"Well, you two look like your having a jolly good time," Juliet says after who knows how long.

"Oh, Juliet," Lily says, her face red from being caught. She's trying to keep it cool, because Lily's always been the composed one out of her cousins, but Juliet knows when her best friend is nervous. This was one of those times.

"Oh, don't worry your pretty little heads," Juliet says as she gets a glass of water from the kitchen. "I won't tell anyone about your little (she motions her hands around them)…_this_."

They both immediately relax. Because here's the thing - Teddy's girlfriend is Victoire, the one with the summer gold curls and perfect skin while Lily is ten years too young (just like she is, but that's beside the point) with fiery locks and green eyes just like her namesake.

"Oh, thank you, Jules," Lily says as she grips her friends hands.

Lily then drags Teddy away, who stayed silent the entire time, outside - no doubt continuing their, um, _activity. _Juliet shakes her head, lets one single tear fall down her cheek, then goes back upstairs.

The only thing she can think of, really, is how much of a man-whore he really is.

x

"We're getting married."

Teddy announces this the day after she caught him with Lily. But no, it isn't with Lily. It's with Victoire. Lily sits next to her, pale and frozen, as she watches her cousin and Teddy be ambushed by '_congratulations' _and '_I'm so happy for you_.'

"Scumbag," she mumbles underneath her breath. (Nobody hears her, or if they do they choose to ignore it.)

She leaves the family to their celebrations and apparates herself to the reliable Muggle bar that she goes to and drowns her heartache in Muggle beer and dances until her feet are numb.

x

There's this pattern that she creates, see.

She'll go to the bar when it becomes dark and she'll dance until the early morning. They'll be a man on her arm that she won't know the name of and take her back to her apartment, their bodies entangled. She'll lead him to her bedroom and they'll end up between the sheets, making love to each other (even though it involves no love at all).

She wakes up alone, _alwaysalwaysalways_.

x

The wedding involves too much pink for Juliet's preference. Lily's a bridesmaid, along with Dominique and a school friend, and she watches the wedding with tears in her eyes that everyone thinks is for joy, when really its for heartache and for everything that she can't have.

Juliet notices Teddy's eyes peek over Victoire every now and then to Lily. Unconsciously, she wishes that he would look at her like that.

It ends without a hitch. Lily says nothing, Juliet says nothing, and Teddy and Victoire both say '_I do_.'

(His voice cracks - her stays solid.)

x

It ends with a drink.

* * *

_if you liked it enough to favorite/alert, please leave a review, too._


	19. JamesTalia

**notes: **ummm…yeah. I have no excuse for this crazy thing, just that I wanted to get Talia in the collection. I guess you should know that when he said _I love you_ I picture them in their Seventh year, and when he first asks her out I picture them in Sixth year. This is depressing. I don't like it. But whatever. Bare with me?

**word count: **1,190

* * *

**living without**  
JamesTalia

I'm so afraid I'm capable of  
after time I can't accept you're still the song on my breath  
You're not easy to forget.  
-_I Don't Wanna Fall_, The Narrative

:-:

It's quite sad, really, because when she realized that she loved him, he finally stopped waiting.

:-:

"Talia," he said one day of no importance. He lifted her chin up with his index finger. "Talia, I love you."

She froze. She could feel the blood rushing in her head, hear her heart pounding. His look was of a type of confidence that unraveled no matter what.

"James…I-I…" She paused. "I gotta go," she said, and ran out of the empty classroom that they were in.

She looked back for the slightest of seconds and saw him, his look changed from confidence to confusion to heartbreak.

:-:

But this isn't the beginning of the story - it's the beginning of the end, where things start to unravel by the seams and stitches get undone.

The beginning of this story isn't much to be told; they weren't friends - they barely talked. But, somewhere along the line, he began to feel something for her, and while he embraced it, she denied it.

:-:

It's the beginning of their story.

The two are in the library, working on a Charms project. She's scribbling down notes while he's trying to balance a pencil on his nose. She sighed, and turned to look at him.

"You could help, you know," Talia said as she put her pencil down. "This project is worth fifty percent of our grade for the year and I do care about my future."

He scoffed, the pencil falling once again. "Relax, Finnegan. We're Fifth Years. When applying for jobs, they really only look at our last two years of grades."

"Whatever," she said as she went back to taking notes. "All I know is that I won't be doing all the work and put your name on it when, in actuality, you did nothing."

:-:

Her project gets the top grade possible, after she asked the Professor if she could switch project.

His gets the lowest grade possible, after he did nothing on his own project.

:-:

It's the end of the beginning, now.

The party is loud; music played throughout the Gryffindor Tower, celebrating the winning Quidditch match of that day. They're making out in an empty corridor, hands wandering places where only the hands of who they _really _loved should be.

He knows she's drunk. He knows it's wrong to take advantage of a girl like that, that he shouldn't be doing it. But he can only restrain himself for so long, and when the girl of his dreams threw herself at him, how could he say no?

Later, he would say it was the beginning of something. Later, she would say she didn't remember it at all.

:-:

He asked her out that Friday during breakfast.

With a sly smile, she told him she would think about it.

(In the end, she said yes.)

:-:

Let's jump to the middle of the middle, shall we?

In this part of their love story, it's the happy montage that you would see in a film. Holding hands, kissing, giving flowers, taking walks, smiling, laughing - all of that, they did.

But this part is short, compared to the rest of their story.

:-:

The beginning of the end is when James said _I love you _too soon. It was when Talia got scared, and all the walls that he had knocked down to get this far came back up. It was when they went for days, weeks, months without talking or seeing each other.

And it was almost as if they were back at the ultimate beginning again, just two acquaintances who wanted nothing to do with each other, but not quite, for now they have a history that just won't disappear.

:-:

It was exactly a week after he told her those three words. He had given her space, as hard as that had been, but, being his impatient self, had been trying to talk to her since the day before.

"Talia," he said, chasing her down the hallway. "Talia, wait up!" His footsteps rattled against the floor - _clank, clank, clank_.

She continued walking, though, and did not look back. She was walking with her friend Claudia, ever the loyal one, who turned around to him and said:

"Don't you get it, Potter?" Claudia said, hands on her hips and turned to look at him. Talia stopped walking, but did not turn around. "She doesn't want to talk to you; she doesn't want to _be _with you. So why can't you just leave her alone?"

He stopped, and looked at Talia, who looked down.

"I want to hear that from her, if you don't mind, Bones," he said.

There was a moment between the three where there was silence, and all you could hear was the clatter and noise from the classroom next to them. There was a moment when Talia was battling between passion and fear, deciding which should win. She holds her head up, looks him straight in the eye.

"I don't want to be with you, James," She said to him, and turned back to walk towards the Gryffindor tower. Talia knew that Claudia was probably smirking at him, a flaunting the victory and his heartbreak, before she would follow after her.

Her footsteps are the only ones that she can hear, echoing her decision.

(She tried to convince herself that it was the right one.)

:-:

Our story is inching slowly towards the end, where she had hoped that the strings would come back together again, when, instead, they just unraveled even further.

Slowly, they are running out of threads to unravel, when there will just be strands of what could be and had been.

:-:

It took her six months before she realized that she couldn't - _wouldn't _be able to forget about him. At this point, they had both been out of Hogwarts. She had gotten his address from his brother, and, after leaving immediately before she heard what else he could say, she apparated to his flat. She knocked several times, and when she went for another one, he opened the door in nothing but pajama pants. She let her hand down awkwardly.

"Uh, yeah. Hi," she said. "Look, James I just...I just wanted to say -"

"James," she heard an unfamiliar voice say. She froze, and James moved to reveal a thin, dark haired woman walking towards them. "Whose at the door, James?"

(Inside, she thought she heard her heartbreak.)

He turned and looked at the dark-haired woman. "A friend. An old friend," he said. "Give us a moment, 'kay Alexa?" The woman - _Alexa - _nodded and went back into the flat.

"I...Just never mind," Talia said and apparated away to a nearby park and let the tears fall.

_I don't need him_, she thought to herself. _I_ _don't_.

But there's only so many lies that she can convince herself are truths.  
(this wasn't one of them.)

* * *

_If you liked it enough to favorite/alert, please leave a review with it._


	20. MollyScorpius

**notes**: because I wanted a new Molly and for me, this is a new her.  
**wordcount**: 859.  
**summary**: some things just have to be thrown out. -MollyScorpius.

* * *

**you have yet to realize**  
MollyScorpius

:-:

Once upon a time, there was a girl of another name of another appearance, nothing like the way the girl is today. Once upon a time, she had ribbons in her hair and pink painted fingernails and didn't care about what anyone thought.

She's young, _ohso_ young, just turned eleven. Her bright red hair has not yet been cut and she's literally bouncing of excitement for this day that she's been waiting for her whole life. The letter arrives for her sister and herself just on time, and they both hug each other excitedly after they open the letter.

Because this was a time when she believed in happy endings and Prince Charming's and just about everything that has to do with fairytales.

(_But there's only so long until each person has to go and find out who they are and what they want to do, to become, and some things just have to be thrown out in the end_.)

:-:

"Molly, dear," her Mother says to her after she's taken a shower. It's the summer before Hogwarts, when they are getting ready for school and eagerly listening to all the tales of their Uncles and Aunts and parents times at Hogwarts once again. "Come, sit," (_her Mother motions to a stool_), "let me braid your hair."

And Molly complies as she runs over to her Mother to have her hair braided, listening to her Mother sing and Lucy practice her piano upstairs and her Father clack, clack, clacking away on the Muggle computer that their Grandfather had given them, no doubt trying to figure out how it works.

And she thinks that this, right here, quite possibly could be perfection.

:-:

On the first day of school, she gets sorted into Gryffindor and nobody is really surprised. Her sister, Lucy, gets sorted into Ravenclaw alongside their cousin Louis - still, nobody was really surprised; everyone always said she was the more reasonable one out of the two.

On the first day of school, he gets sorted into Gryffindor. There's a brief moment of complete and utter chaos, where everyone is yelling _What the hell? _or _There must be a mistake! _or _He's a bloody Malfoy, for heaven's sake!_ and, for a moment, the boy is completely belittled and Molly shoots him an encouraging smile.

:-:

There's a girl, once upon a time, that was the very essence of what her parents wanted her to be; polite, happy, healthy. But the girl realized just at the age of thirteen how unhappy she is, being what her parents conformed her to.

Her first act of rebelling (though it's really only finding herself) is cutting off her long hair in a pixie cut and dying it a vibrant purple. People gasp and people _ooh_ and _ahh_ and some people just laugh. Her sister reacts by saying, "Molly! What on Earth did you do to your hair?" And then following with possible solutions to fix it.

"Lucy," she says as she interrupts her sister. "Did it ever occur to you that I _wanted_ to do this?" Her sister says nothing for a second, but then laughs. She shakes her head, disappointed. "Of course it didn't. I could have known you wouldn't have get it."

And she leaves her sister, who had stopped laughing and just stared after Molly, and never cares about her opinion ever again.

:-:

It starts as a game, or at least it is to her.

By now, the girl is fifteen going on sixteen and has dyed her hair various colors; currently, it was a bright green. Fred joked that it made her look like an alien, but she ignored the comment just like many others. By now, the girl had gained a reputation; some say she's the start of a revolution, some say she's a slut. Most say the latter. (She ignores them, just like the rest.)

It starts with winking and flirting and slight brushes against the skin.

:-:

His hands roam where only one who she loves should be. He kisses her, and she feels safe. He kisses her, and she wants more, more, more. But because she's Molly and he's Scorpius, she denies every attempt from him to make them something more.

He kisses her, and she's afraid. Afraid of him leaving her; of the future; of his girlfriend finding out about them. But she forgets all of that for a moment, and absorbs it all in like she's the lizard and he's the sunshine.

(The door opens, and she hears the Scorpius yelling, "Rose! Wait!" and her safety net vanishes. She's left by herself and gathers her clothes at an alarming rate before she makes it towards her dormitory and let the first tears fall.

_Who am I?_ she thinks. _What have I become?)_

:-:

Once upon a time, there was a girl who would do anything for what she wanted, no matter who it affected. But now the shell of that girl had broken, and she is hatching, healing, into who she will become, even if she doesn't know who she is yet.

Because after every storm, there is a rainbow.

* * *

_if you liked it enough to favorite/alert, please leave a review with it._


	21. LysanderLayla

**notes**: I'm sorry this sucks. Majorly. But I haven't written anything in, like, ever. So yeah. :/  
**wordcount**: 835.  
**summary**: And immediately, she thought he was somewhat like a rock star. -—LysanderLayla.

* * *

**before **  
LysanderLayla.

* * *

i.

* * *

She meets him for the first time when they are both eleven, small and tiny and he enters with stories of their new school in his heads on repeat. But born into a Muggle family, she has heard hardly anything but what the Headmistress has told her, so she listens eagerly as he tells tales of ghosts and talking portraits and the Whomping Willow.

And immediately, she thought he was somewhat like a rock star.

* * *

ii.

* * *

Fast forward a year later and they've gotten the hang of things. Of school, carrying around notebooks and other supplies. Of friends and managing them; of knowing how to get on the Professor's good sides. They're twelve, then thirteen and they feel like they're on the top of the world. Fourteen comes quickly, and suddenly it's all about _who's_ with _who_ and _who_ did _what_ because in this school, gossip flies around as fast as a hummingbird.

Which is why she kept it to herself, how she was feeling.

* * *

iii.

* * *

"So, Layla, who do you like? I mean, you must have a crush on somebody, don't you?" Her roommate, Anya Peterson, asked her. She leaned forward towards her as if watching a film and Layla laughed.

"No one, Anya," she replied. "I've told you that a million times and the answer hasn't changed."

Anya leaned back, smiling. "But I know that it will change, eventually."

Layla sighed and left her roommate to herself as she went down to the Gryffindor Common Room. She saw Lysander at the end of the room with James and Lorcan, surrounded by twice as many girls. For a second, she wished she was one of them. But she wasn't like one of those girls, she reminded herself.

_And I don't need to be._

* * *

iv.

* * *

She watched him. Not in the way where she became obsessed, following him to classes and such. But she threw a quick glance at him when they shared classes and somehow always found him in a crowded room. He never paid much attention to her, honestly, and she wasn't surprised.

But she may have been just slightly disappointed.

* * *

v.

* * *

"You are so in love with him," Anya declared one evening as she painted her nails. This declaration caused Layla to almost choke on the mint she was sucking on, however Anya made no expression.

"I'm sorry, but what?"

She leaned forward. "You. Are. In love. With. Lysander."

"Now, this wouldn't happen to be Lysander Howell, the famous Muggle artist, right?" That made Anya give Layla a confused look. Then she remembered. "Right. Pureblood. Never mind, then."

"Well, for your information, the Lysander I meant was none other than Lysander Scamander. Y'know. That boy you're always watching."

_Crap_. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about, Ans," Layla replied coolly. Anya leaned back.

"You can deny it as many times as you want, but I know love when I see it."

Layla didn't reply.

* * *

vi.

* * *

At sixteen, Layla made a deal with herself to get over him because they never had anything in the first place and probably never would. But when she saw him on the platform on the first day of their Sixth Year, she realized how ridiculously and utterly foolish she was being about him.

She also realized that she was not, by far, over him, no matter how much she tried to convince herself.

* * *

vii.

* * *

"Will you go out...with me?"

That was what Robbie Henson asked her on November 27th at seven fifty-two pm, exactly.

"Yes.

That was what she replied a minute afterwards.

* * *

viii.

* * *

Robbie Henson was nice. He was sweet. He was careful. He was funny. But he was also awkward and shy and wonderfully himself. She could go on and list what she liked about him that would end up being pages of traits that he possessed.

But there was always that little voice in the back of her head saying something along the lines of, _But there's more that you like about him._

And _that_ him? Well, if you hadn't caught on yet, I can say that it wasn't Robbie Henson with certainty. I'll let you figure the rest out by yourself.

* * *

ix.

* * *

"Layla." A pause. "I think we should break up."

Startled. "What?"

"I don't think we should see each other anymore."

"O-okay." Her voice broke.

Robbie stood up and walked away. Layla stayed still as she tried to process what just happened. It would have been their nine month anniversary the next day if he had stayed. She couldn't help but remember that.

* * *

x.

* * *

The day that Lysander asked her out was the thirty-second day after The Breakup and the thirtieth day after he first talked to her - _really_ talked to her. He laughed at her jokes, which was big because she had an unusual sense of humor and if you didn't get it than the friendship would be doomed automatically.

And she thought that maybe that was the beginning. The _real_ beginning.

And so it was.

* * *

_please leave a review if you liked it enough to favorite/alert._


	22. LilyLorcan

**i must be brave**  
lily&lorcan

**notes**: captilzation = nada. just a warning. for the tragedy challenge at HPFC. tragedy - losing a child. pairing - lily/lorcan. prompts - distinctive, bollocks, discombobulated. i did not use the prompts. like, at all. sorry 'bout that. also: _high t_ for content. again, just a warning. also, also: the ending seems rushed and i'm sorry 'bout that butttt...whatever.  
**wordcount**: 993.  
**summary**: all he remembers is the before and the after. /lily&lorcan.

.

"don't you love me?" she asks him as she nuzzles her nose up in the crook of his neck. he kisses the top of her head.

"of course i do, lily-pad," he says.

she smiles, and for once in her life, everything is aligned.

.

they move in together after they both graduate from hogwarts. it was something they had planned since forever, if they were being honest with each other.

"welcome home, lils," he says as he puts an arm around her.

she looks up at him, his eyes all stars and smiling bright. she thinks he's never been more beautiful.

"yeah," she says, still looking up at him. "welcome home."

.

reasons she loves him:

reason one: his optimism.

.

sometimes, she thinks he makes her world go 'round. like, if he suddenly stopped loving her, then everything would fall apart and nothing would ever be whole again.

but when she thinks about it, she knows that would be what would happen. it's not a 'possibly', or a 'maybe.' she knows that if he left her, she would be nothing.

(so she clings just a bit tighter)

.

she gets pregnant. (do i need to explain how?)

he reacts happily while she isn't entirely sure what to do. but on the inside, she thinks she really is happy - truly.

.

he proposes a week later in the backyard of the burrow, her whole family surrounding her. it's a bit too much out of a movie for her liking, but she says yes, because she loves him like nothing else ever before.

her family doesn't know about the baby, and she feels as if she's betrayed them, somehow.

.

reasons why she loves him:

reason two: because he does what is right, without even thinking about it.

.

the wedding is only big because of her family. it happens when she's three months into the pregnancy. there is a small dip in her stomach, but she thinks nobody notices - she couldn't be sure, though, with her family.

the wedding goes as planned, they say "i do" without hesitation, kiss, and plan to live happily ever after - even if it did come a little bit sooner than planned.

.

(sometimes, lily thinks that happiness is overrated.

but then she sees him, and thinks it's not as bad as she thought.)

.

reasons why she loves him:

reason three: because he's like a ray of sunshine.

.

"i completely and utterly love you, y'know?" he says on their honey-moon. she smiles, and places a tighter hold on her stomach.

"i know."

and she does - and it's the absolutely best feeling in the world.

.

for awhile, everything is absolutely perfect, like out of muggle films. they take walks, they laugh, they hold hands. they love each other like nothing before. it's like one of those fairytales that she never believed in.

which, of course, means that it will all tumble down.

.

it happens on a thursday of no importance.

she trips as she enters the kitchen over some dirty laundry, and suddenly there's blood everywhere and she's crying and yelling and screaming and so when lorcan comes over, he's hovering around her until she screams, "damnit, lorcan, just call St. Mungos!" and of course that's what he should've done in the beginning, but there was _blood_ - _oh_, how much blood there was - and he couldn't handle anything else but he calls via floo powder and says:

"m-my wife," he stumbles on his words, going to fast. "she's-she's, well i don't know what happened! just that she's pregnant and there's blood and just - just - just, damnit get over here!" he's untying himself right now, shaking yet feeling numb. lily's screaming feels like another world, even though he _knows_ it should be his top priority to try and comfort her.

but before he can do anything, healing witches and wizards step through his fireplace and enter his home. a short one with dark hair asks him where she is, but he doesn't remember answering, so he figures he must've just pointed to where he is.

everything after that is a blur. all he remembers is the before and the after, none of the beginning.

.

they tell him the baby didn't make it around an hour later, after trying to make her still give birth despite the fall, but, in the end, it didn't matter.

"fuck," he says to himself. "fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck_." he doesn't notice the tears running down his face, or the fact that lily is quiet from their bedroom and the witches and wizards from st. mungo's are gone.

he doesn't know what else to do, except cry.

.

they have different ways to cope with what had happened.

lily stays in bed, never speaking and hardly ever changing her clothes. she deals with it in silence.

lorcan moves as if it's all choreographed, like he's just playing a part. he doesn't talk much, either, but he's the one that answers everyone when they ask _"how are you doing?"_

he replies with _as well as we could be._

(he isn't lying.)

.

on father's day, they pretend not to notice.

on mother's day, they pretend not to notice.

.

reasons why she loves him:

reason four: he doesn't hover.

.

sometimes, he wishes that the miscarriage never happened. but wishing won't bring the baby back, so he stops it as soon as he realizes what he's doing.

but sometimes, he feels good about wishing and lets it sit there for awhile. but not often.

.

"do you still love me?"

it's the first words she's spoken to him in months, her voice hoarse and cracked. she looks scared, as if she expects him to say no.

"yes."

(he's telling the truth, in case you want to know.)

she looks relieved, like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders. he kind of feels the same way, if he's being honest.

.

reasons she loves him:

reason five: he means it.

* * *

_if you liked it enough to favorite/alert, please leave a review, too._


	23. JamesLayla

**rolling**  
james&layla

.

**notes**: i dunno. i just wanted to write one in diary-form/princess diaries form. and yeah, i see james as a copy of his namesake, including the chasing after a girl. so what? ;) this is also my attempt at a light-hearted piece. god. i fail at these.  
**warning**: layla is a potty mouth. just sayin'.  
**wordcount**: 1,191  
**summary**: "Layla Olivera, will you - " "No, James, I will _not_ marry you." "- go on a date with me?" "Remember the answer before? Yeah, substitute that 'marry' with 'go on a date,' will you?" / layla&james, because sometimes, opposites attract.

* * *

February 2nd.  
Dear Diary,

There is nothing of much importance that I have to say. Except for maybe that James Potter asked me out - again. I just don't understand why he still asks me out. I mean, I've refused him as much as he's asked me (which is a lot, grant you), so shouldn't he have gotten the hint yet? That I, Layla Samantha Olivera, do **NOT** want to go out with him. But I guess he doesn't, because it's the same basic question _every single day_ (and usually multiple times a day).

"Will you go out with me?" He asks. And sometimes I think that he's actually thinking that I'll say _yes, I will go out with you_. Which is stupid of him, because I always say no. But the question arrives in many forms, along with the answers that I supply.

"Want to go to Hogsmeade with me on Saturday?"

"Because I would just _love_ to spend my free time with you instead of with my actual friends." (Please, note the sarcasm.)

"Would you go on a date with me tonight, Olivera?"

"Never in a million years, Potter." (Absolutely no sarcasm there, just so you know.)

"Come on, Layla, just spend one afternoon with me! I promise I won't bite!"

"And why would I believe that, since you actually _did_ bite Louis the other day? So _no_."

Rinse, wash, and repeat. _Over_ and _over_ and _OVER_ again.

If there was any compliment that I would give James, it would be his relentlessness to give up. But it's not like I _am_ complimenting him, soooo...

Yeah.

~Layla

/

February 2nd (Again).  
Dear Diary,

Another example, used just minutes ago:

"Layla Olivera, will you - "

"No, James, I will _not_ marry you."

"- go on a date with me?"

"Remember the answer before? Yeah, substitute that 'marry' with 'go on a date,' will you?"

This is my life. I know. Don't judge.

~Layla

/

February 5th  
Dear Diary,

Do you think James actually _knows_ that I hate him? Or is it just that he thinks I'm faking? Because if I was faking, I'd have to be a good actress. Which, evidently, I am not. So there. Either way, it's depressing to think that he'd be thick enough not to know my sincerity in my sarcastic comments. It does take me awhile to think of those, you know.

Dreading the fourteenth, by the way. Valentine's Day just gives him an excuse to go all out. Last year: he sent three dozen roses via owl to me during breakfast. It was _**beyond**_ embarrassing, if you know what I mean. The year before: he fake _proposed_ to me. Obviously, I turned him down using a quite impressive amount of dirty language. But I still hated it.

God knows what this year will bring.

~Layla

/

February 10th  
Dear Diary,

Dexter Jordan asked Alisha out. She's more than_ kinda of_ freaking out about it, because she's had a crush on him for the past two years, and even though she's usually outgoing, with boys she is not. So she crushed in silence.

But not anymore.

They are, apparently, going out on a date on Valentine's Day. Now, I just have to note: how _cliche_ is that? Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for her. Maybe it's just that I hate Valentine's Day, that's why it seems so...I dunno, fake. Alisha said that I am just too cynical to appreciate Valentine's Day. I didn't _used_ to be cynical. No, really.

Oh fine, maybe I was.

But not this much.

(Personally, I blame James. Besides, you can blame him for just about anything and it's perfectly believable, with what him and his friends have down over the years.)

Until next time,

~Layla

/

February 13th  
Dear Diary,

**_SAVE ME FROM TOMORROW, PLEASE!_**

With no hope whatsoever that James will be subtle,

~Layla

/

February 14th (Morning)  
Dear Diary,

I'm writing this in my bed with my pajamas still on. Partly because I'm too tired to bother getting up (All of my dorm mates are morning people. It sucks.), but mostly because I am afraid of seeing James Potter today. I know.

I. Am. Afraid. Of seeing. James Potter.

Well, I _should_ be. It's our last year at Hogwarts. He'd probably have saved the best for last.

Afraid from being catapulted with chocolates in the Great Hall,

~Layla

/

February 14th (Afternoon)  
Dear Diary,

It has been oddly quiet today. No one has seen James or Fred or Roxanne, nor the boys other three dorm mates Alex, Benji and Silas, who are also their partners in crime.

Dear God, I am afraid. So afraid.

I hate this.

~Layla

/

February 15th  
Dear Diary,

It turned out that they saved the event 'til midnight. Silas, Benji and Alex had kidnapped me by blind folding me with a bandana and tying my hands behind my back and leading me up to the Astronomy Tower. Of course, I didn't know where or who I was with until afterwards, but still.

And yes, it was **FREAKIN' SCARY.**

Anyway. It felt like hours until someone undid the blind fold and guess who it was. James Potter. Of course.

He smiled at me sheepishly.

I hit him as hard as I could on the arm. Surprised, he jumped back.

"Oi!" He said, rubbing his arm. "What was that for?"

"For kidnapping me in the middle of the night!" I said, still punching him. (Though lighter and more tease-like, I do admit.) "Did you think I would be _awake_ at midnight? _No_! I was asleep! I was being fucking dragged out of my bed in the middle of the night with no fucking idea of what was going on - "

"Language, Layla, Language." He waved a finger at me, but I kept going.

" - and I'm being lead to somewhere that I don't know! For all I know, it could've been old Death Eaters reuniting to raise havoc on Muggle borns!" I took a breath.

"Did you fight back?" He asked, eyebrows raised.

"What?" I was taken back by his question. Personally, I wasn't done yet and didn't want to be interrupted.

"Did you fight back? I mean, against Silas, Benji and Alex?"

I froze. "You got your_ dorm mates_ to kidnap me?"

He shrugged. "Their idea, actually."

I was at it again. "Fucking hell, that was stupid!" _punch_. "Did you honestly think that I would _go along_ with something like that?" _punch_. He was still waiting for the answer. I sighed, "_Of course_ I fought back! Who wouldn't? I mean, honestly, who the fuck would go along with being _kidnapped_? No one! That's who! Why did you even bring me up here, anyways? Honestly, just get going because I - "

And then he kissed me.

That's not even the worse part. This is: I liked it.

_I liked it._

I liked it.

I liked kissing _**James Potter**_.

And my first thought afterwards, when he let me go?

_Fuck_.

And my second thought afterwards, when he let me go?

_Why'd he stop?_

And then I ran.

My life is going to get so much more complicated now. Shit.

~Layla

* * *

_If you liked it enough to favorite, please leave a review, also._


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